Acting Normal
by a-closet-fan
Summary: "They never show this part in the movies, do they?" The Professor said, offering a weak smile. "No duh. Who'd pay to watch this? The people want blood, not survivors guilt." She pouts, sinking lower into her chair. Buttercup could confidently say that doomsday was the worst day of her life for all the wrong reasons. What was she even suppose to do now? Just go to school? Be normal?
1. Chapter 1

She blinked once, then twice coming back to the present. She was loosely aware that she had been examining the crack in the faded pink wall for about twenty or so minutes, which was about forty or so minutes less than the time she had spent wasting away staring at the popcorn ceiling above her bed.

The light was streaming in, but her bed was in the darkest corner of the shared room and her blankets were pulled securely around her, so it did little to disturb her. She could hear the rest of her family, and guests, mingling downstairs. Personally, she had yet to even move from her bed that day, her hair was a mess, her mouth tasted horrible with sleep, and she hadn't bothered to change out of the same clothes all weekend.

It was early afternoon, specific time undetermined, on a (probably) beautiful Sunday. The Professor had already come in to check on her twice.

She knew he knew she was faking her late slumber, but she couldn't bring herself to get up. It was bad today— that sense of pointlessness. At one point, she knew, he'd force her to get moving and face the upcoming week, but Professor had always been an understanding guy, even if she hadn't totally explained the emptiness she was feeling lately, so she knew he'd wait a little while longer.

Bringing a finger up to the crack that had been occupying her attention, she traced it lightly as she counted, specifically how long it had been. In all she concluded that it had been some stunningly painful three and a half months, four days, and around at least 10 hours since the end.

The end of the towns pain and suffering. The end of its misery. The end of its resident manifestation of evil, meaning that it had been the end of HIM. And ultimately, it felt like the end of the Powerpuff Girls. Sure, there was still a wee bit of a monster problem, but even that had dwindled to an all-time low. She took a deep breath in a poor attempt to calm herself down.

The real low blow, that was keeping her in bed so late, was the fact that she was the only one still obsessed with the past. That for whatever cruel reason her mind, body, and soul just wouldn't let go. Any moment she swore something would happen; that HIM would come rushing back from the dead and pull everything back to her normal, and with each moment ticking away where this didn't happen, a part of her fell a little further into her dark hole.

She shifted in her bed a bit pulling her legs closer to her chest. Being a Powerpuff Girl, she thought, was (had been) her everything. She lived for the "good fight". It was all she knew how to be, and then one day she woke up and they all told her that wasn't what she was supposed to be anymore. That it was done, which meant she could be normal now.

She mentally snorted, be normal? As if. Normal was not changing everything she knew. Normal was fighting evil. Normal was being able to punch, scream, and yell. To have bruises covering your arms. To protect your loved ones. Normal was not, well, whatever they wanted her to be now. Maybe it was her overwhelming sense of loyalty to the good cause, but she couldn't hurdle past this.

To her, she was the only normal one left. The nightmares that plagued her, the sleeping pills she needed, the instinct to fight seemed to have solely stayed with her. Not even her sisters had stayed behind with her.

She had lost count of the nights—she wasn't good with numbers anyway—where she would lay awake partly obsessing over how it was so easy for them just to accept what was and move on. It had been as much their life as it was hers and now! Now? Well, now it just felt like none of it had happened for them. Like it had all been an elaborate cruel dream of her own making and well, it wasn't fair!

She sat up briefly to punch her pillow a few times, effectively plumping it back to perfect and letting off some steam she seemed to be constantly holding onto. She settled back down with a gruff huff thinking about how she hadn't always been alone.

For a while afterwards, her sisters had been like her. At first, they were still getting regular calls concerning looting, robbery, burglary, among the other regular crimes that were pretty typical after a disaster. Then, those calls filtered out and those long nights had been spent lying awake consumed by their thoughts. Unfortunately, the sleeping pills Professor had made to help had hardly worked at first, something about their chemical X rejecting them or whatever. So, they laid awake.

Sometimes they would talk to each other, other nights not a word, but it was comforting knowing they were awake thinking the same general thoughts she was. On "talking nights", it would always be Blossom or Bubbles who would speak first. She didn't like too, because she didn't remember as much as they did towards the end of that day. Conversations were always vague and they teetered around certain events, treading carefully probably for her own expense, though she wished they wouldn't.

"Can you believe it's done?" One of them would whisper, and then the other two would reply no.

Then one night, Bubbles had fallen asleep too early to participate in this new nightly ritual. Then the night after that, she fell asleep in a record half-hour and Buttercup would be lying if she said she didn't feel a little betrayed that Bubbles body had finally accepted the pills.

Slipping back to the present, she now knew neither of her sisters actually took the pills anymore, so now she felt like she was betraying them because she still had to. Just another one of life's little gut punches to show she wasn't moving on like they were.

But it wasn't the pills that made her aware of the fact that her sisters were leaving her behind. No, it wasn't that. It had been one particularly uneventful night, clear skies, warm weather, the perfect evening and Buttercup had been awake for it, like usual. She had been listening to Bubbles soft snores, but by that hour of the night she had pushed her jealousy aside. It had been a few nights since what she had deemed a "talking night" had occurred and one was desperately due. Except now she had only Blossom to rely on.

When she could no longer take it, Buttercup decided to break her vow of silence asking the dark if they could believe it was done.

No answer. She had been a good sport though, she gave it a few minutes before asking again and still no answer.

She turned over looking at the bed next to hers, "Bloss?" She asked her voice rising.

"...hmm?" The sleepy grumble returned.

"I asked if you could believe it was over." The phrase came out more like a comment, rather than a question.

The bed next to hers shifted and there was a sigh and finally a sleepy command that she should "go...bed Butt..ers."

The answer, as innocent as it was, had hit her like a ton of bricks. She remembered how winded she had felt. How lonely it had been, how lonely it was to know that if she was going to ask her sisters today they would say yes and she would say no.

Her hand dropped from that little crack she had just found again after tossing and turning a bit, as she thought again that maybe the reason she was like this was because she hadn't seen it happen. It wasn't just her loyalty to the cause, she just wasn't granted the pleasure of closure.

She didn't see HIM fall.

* * *

"Buttercup?" The door creaked open and a brave figure approached the aforementioned girls' bed, "Sweetie, it's time to get up. Lunch is ready."

The man smiled softly, placing a hand on the figure that curled tighter into the green comforter, "I made your favorite, how's that sou—What was that?"

He had to lean in close, politely ignoring the stale smell that followed a depressed figure as most good parents tended to do in these situations, and deciphered what the mumbling figure below him was communicating.

"Yes dear, they all just left. Why don't you come downstairs for a while, hmm?" 'They' was in reference to his other daughters and their company. The little group had decided to go out to eat for lunch, even offering to bring the third "sleeping" sister something back. The Professor had denied for his middle daughter, this weekend had been particularly rough for her and he knew when she needed space. She must have obviously heard them leaving; super-hearing was at times both a blessing and a curse.

A sniffle was the only response he received from the mound below him and his smile faded quickly as a second sniffle followed, and then a quiet sob. His heart-broke for her a little more.

"Oh Buttercup, it's alright. Come here dear." He shushed her, and she allowed him to bring her close. Moments like these with his middle child were rare, she had never been much of a crier, and while he was definitely worried he didn't press her to talk. Buttercup had always preferred actions to words, and he knew she would open up when she felt like it. Right now, though, he held her, rocking her slowly.

After some time, the sobs slowly subsided and she pulled away. Buttercup didn't look at him, because crying always made her feel, unfortunately, ashamed, though he had tried his best over the years to dispel those feelings. He cupped her face, titling her head so he could look into her bloodshot eyes, trying to convey without words that he was here to talk.

When she offered him nothing and avoided his eye contact, he put his best fatherly smile forwarded and kissed her on the forehead. The best thing he guessed he could do for her was to move on from the moment, with Buttercup you had to be patient.

"Why don't we shower and then get some lunch, hmm?" He suggested, "It'll make you feel better."

He stood up after she nodded, "I'll be right downstairs."

He hesitated by the door and turned to once again look at his not-so-little little girl. She looked so small sitting in the middle of that bed, though it looked more like a nest the way she had organized her pillows and blankets.

This wasn't how John thought everything would end up like. He thought the end of all the fighting, and of HIM, would bring their tiny family some well-deserved peace, but life found funny little ways of delaying that right to happiness. He wished he knew how to help his daughter, that she would reach out and tell him what was wrong. If he could figure out a way to shoulder her feelings for her, so she didn't have to, he would. But alas, there was no science, no invention that would justly do so.

With slumped shoulders he exited the girls room, returning down stairs to the living room where he had left his reading. He had set up shop there this afternoon to inconspicuously supervise the other teenagers that had been in his home just a little bit earlier. Now, he resumed his work while waiting for Buttercup.

"Ahhh, another beautiful day in the City of Townsville. The children are playing, the parents are smiling..." The reporter droned on. John was looking over some of his latest reports, ignoring the program. He liked to leave the news on while reading, an old habit from when the girls were more active.

She came downstairs about an hour later, showered and dressed. At least she had made some progress, he had been too consumed in his thoughts to get much work done. He smiled warmly at her, getting up from his reading chair and heading to the kitchen. He noticed how her eyes flickered to the news. The channel was running a segment on the reconstruction still underway from their last grand battle—well, John hoped it was the last grand battle.

"...All thanks to the Powerpuff Girls!" The segment concluded before cutting to commercial.

Buttercup floated in after him a minute or so later, which gave him enough time to heat up the meal he had prepared for her. Her short, wet hair stuck to her face and she looked absolutely miserable, but she had changed into a new set of comfortable clothes and at least now he could watch her actually eat something. Recently he had notice how much he latched onto the little victories concerning his middle triplet. What more could a parent do, when the child wouldn't let them do much else?

"Thanks for the food Professor." She graced him with one of her small smiles and he added it to the list of things to be grateful for.

"Of course, sweetie." He said, smiling back a little wider than necessary.

"I just don't know what I'm supposed to do now." She admitted, staring out the back door, her eyes following the movement of the sprinkler.

It wasn't much, but John was smart enough to piece it all together. He sat down across from her and placed a hand on top of hers, "You don't have to figure it all out at once dear. Transitions are hard, but if you take it one step at a time it gets a little easier."

She sat on that for a bit before bringing her attention back to him, "Yeah, but I don't even know where to step. Bubbles and Blossom knew. Bubbles isn't even walking, its been a full out sprint!" She said the last part while rolling her eyes.

He let out a warm chuckle, "Let's not compare ourselves to others." It was a light reprimand, but he hoped she would take him seriously, "Besides, you're not alone Buttercup. We'll tackle this together, hmm?"

She raised an eyebrow, his cue to continue. He was unable to though, because at that particular moment the noise of a certain car engine filled the previously quiet street. The smile that had been on his face vanished, now for an entirely different reason.

* * *

Obviously, Buttercup noticed the shift in her father's attention immediately. She wasn't mad about it though, she mostly understood. Two of his daughters had gone off to eat with three boys who had a shifty track record. To her it wasn't much of a big deal, but then again, she wasn't a dad and they weren't her daughters, so what did she really know. She did respect how well her dad was handling it, considering how little the girls usually interacted with the opposite gender.

Of course, that was all changing too. Another thing she had to mull over—boys.

Pushing those obstructing thoughts away, she instead went back to focusing on her meal, after shooting her dad a look— she really didn't want her sisters to think that she wasn't moving on or that she felt they were leaving her behind. Snapping out of his own reverie, he again smiled at her and made the motion that he was locking his mouth and throwing away the key.

She felt a little guilty all of the sudden, not telling the two people she held the closest to her heart (aside from the Professor) her true feelings. But they were so good at normal, and she wasn't, and the next thing she knew the shame of it all was back. She knew they wouldn't judge her or anything, but she also hated the idea of receiving any sort of pity. She was stronger than that, well she was supposed to be anyway.

Professor went to greet the others while she sat absently chewing away at the BLT, with extra B, in front of her. She was too busy mulling over what the Professor had said to be concerned with what was going on in the front room. She needed to make a first step, but what would that even be?

Buttercup reached down for the next chip only to realize she had already finished them. She pushed the plate away with a tsk.

"There you are! I've been calling for you!" Her sister said behind her. Bubbles put a hand on her shoulder and placed a milkshake on the table. Buttercup looked at the drink with masked surprise, snapping out of her thoughts.

"I know the Professor said you didn't want anything, but I got it for you just in case!" Bubbles smiled bending down to eye level.

"Thanks." She offered her happiest sister a small smile, as she mentally scrambled to adjust her settings from 'my life is falling apart around me' to 'I'm totally Ms. Cool, Calm, and Collected'.

She took a sip of the slightly melted drink, buying herself some time before asking, "How was lunch?"

The bubbly girl next to her readily took the invitation to tell her exactly, in detail, how lunch was and as interesting as it was to hear Bubbles rant about the lack of vegetarian options at most restaurants _again,_ Buttercup soon found herself zoning out. As she absently nodded along, nibbling on the straw of her drink, she recognized that the tv was being turned to some early season football game. She smiled, though a bit disinterested, in encouragement as Bubbles finished describing the restaurant and meal she had and began describing the conversations that had taken place, while she mentally noted that it wasn't just her family in the house.

Buttercup stood making a move towards the dishwasher to clean up her plate, her eyes darting to a near exit. Bubbles ignored this talking a mile a minute and Buttercup had a feeling she wasn't going to get anything in anytime soon. But that was Bubbles, she was chatty, which was funny because when they were all younger people thought she was the quiet one.

The only other people she knew who could match this loudmouth word for word was Princess, Mojo, and…

"Oh! There you guys are!" Boomer said poking his head into the kitchen, "Hey Buttercup! Do you like the milkshake, we spent forever trying to figure out what you would have wanted? Is your phone charging? We tried calling, I personally like vanilla with like candy in mine, but Butch likes mint, so we figured…"

And off he went. She turned around, two steps and a leap away from freedom (more formally known as the door to the backyard), to face him for politeness's sake, but he too was quickly losing her attention span.

"Boomer do you remember the thing Brick said? You know everyone laughed!" Bubbles interjected, not allowing Buttercup to answer the fifteen questions Boomer had shot at her, which was good because she had forgotten about half of them.

"You'll have to be more specific Bubbles, I say a lot of funny things." Came the nonchalant response from Brick himself, as he walked over to lean on the kitchen island, "Hey Buttercup." He threw her a two-fingered wave.

She opened her mouth to say hello back, but Bubbles had already begun recalling the whole event that she had already describe to Buttercup not even two seconds prior.

"Yeah, yeah blabbermouth" Brick interject, rolling his eyes and placing a hand over her mouth, "I remember, I don't need the whole play-by-play." In turn, Bubbles pouted.

"Be nice, Brick. You did ask for specifics." The actually calm and collected figure that was her sister Blossom commanded. With a pointed look towards Brick, she walked into the kitchen.

"Aw come on Pink-Eye," He said pulling his fingers through his hair, "I'm always nice, ain't that right Butch?" He called out.

The final Rowdyruff was still in the living room, most likely watching the game that had been turned on. He made a noise in the affirmative, which prompted Brick to smile at Blossom.

"I told you so." He said with a smug roll of his shoulders, adjusting his hat back on his head.

"By who's standards? _Butch's_? What about _my_ opinion?" Boomer complained in the background of things.

"Shut-up Boom." Brick said waving his brother off.

"Yeah. Shut-up." Came the quick and prompted routine response from the other room.

Meanwhile, Blossom rolled her eyes, probably recalling how many times Brick had specifically not been nice, just like Buttercup was also doing at the moment. As of late though, he could maybe make a convincing argument. _Maybe._

They weren't bad guys anymore. Bad guys in the sense that they robbed banks or highjacked military equipment, but they still had a knack for finding trouble. Like smoking in the school's bathroom or getting in fights at parties, ya know regular "bad boy" stuff she couldn't help rolling her eyes at.

Nothing she couldn't handle, but she didn't have to handle them anymore because she guessed they weren't enemies now. Sort of dumb thing to guess since they were causally all hanging out in the Utonium's kitchen, as they had been doing ever since the boys had agreed on the supposedly "temporary" truce to help the sisters take down HIM.

At the time, around a half year ago she figured, it had been a pretty wild turn of events. Now, it was pretty normal to see the boys raiding her fridge or frantically rushing to finish homework at the table after Blossom and the Professor had finally convinced them to attend school.

So, not enemies, but it was still weird for Buttercup to say they were more like friends now, then anything else. Maybe not so much her friends, but unlike her father's shift in personality earlier, she understood perfectly why, which made her gut flip again with guilt.

That day had been particularly difficult for the group. It was a _dooms_ day after all and things never went right on those sorts of days. So, after everything had been said and done, and their physical wounds had mostly healed she tried to keep a safe, comfortable distance. There was no need to force a friendship if they didn't want it. Besides, what really mattered was the fact that they had forgiven her enough to still accept her sister's friendship.

It wasn't like she didn't try though. She just couldn't figure out how to talk to them without entirely messing it up. It didn't help that she had never been much of a people person.

Speaking of messing up socially, thanks to her near constant inner monologuing, Buttercup wasn't aware that the rest of the rooms residents had moved on from the previous conversation until she was waved back into reality by Boomer.

"Earth to Buttercup!"

She blinked, "Sorry, what?"

"What a joke Friday was!" Boomer eyes were wide, his expression overly exasperated as he gestured to the rest of the people in the room. Buttercup noted that this was her cue to take the lead and most likely agree with the boy in front of her. Easy, if she had been paying attention.

"…Friday?" She prompted confused, choosing to ignore how Blossom pressed her lips together. Blossom hated when people didn't pay attention.

"Yeah, in English?" He supplied, nodding.

"Oh! Yeah." She said nodding off what she felt like was the right answer, as she internally panicked. What had happened in English? Most of the time she plain forgot they were even in the same class, considering he sat in the back of the class on the opposite side of the room.

He was the only one in the little six superpowered teenage group that she shared a class with, not counting homeroom, which she did share with her sisters, but that wasn't random that went by last name and then lunch, but that wasn't a class.

"Well, yeah what…?" Blossom prompted, gesturing with her hand for Buttercup to continue, which was really unfortunate because Buttercup hadn't been aware this was more than a yes/no question.

She scratched at her nose, cleared her throat, and examined her socks before she met her sister's eyes, "Huh?"

It was amazing how in sync her sisters' frowning was. God, could this be more awkward?

"Boomer passed the verbal baton to you, so please tell us what a joke English was on Friday." Brick supplied.

Buttercup once again nodded, as she took a long sip of her milkshake, collecting any thought she could muster up about Friday fourth period. She sat in the closest row to the big window- easy to fly out of, just in case. Not that had happened lately- and directly in front of the teacher's desk. The second seat was her seat, but they didn't have assigned seating. Tammy, the girl in front of her, was using one of those squeaky mechanical pencils that was absorbing most of her attention and some rando was behind her bent over a math book finishing homework.

She remembered that she had accidentally touched some used gum under her desk and temporarily thought about throwing the whole damn thing out the window, but after a few deep breathes had calmed down. Vaguely, she recalled Boomer walking in late around then, but she didn't turn to look. She didn't need to; his side of the room was overly loud in greeting him.

Which was pretty funny to her, considering how like half a year ago everyone was scared shitless of him and his brothers. But you save the town once, and boom easily forgiven. Add in some natural charm and attention from the Powerpuff Girls, and those three had weaseled up the high school social ladder pretty damn fast.

Now that she was thinking about it more clearly, instead of being blindsided by gum-induced rage she did recall that particular side of the room being rather…rowdy, for lack of a better term, and that Mrs. Condrad (née Thorn, which Buttercup remembered her saying she was changing her name back to) was trying to get them to calm down for class to start.

"Yeah, I remember now. It was a joke. What kind of jerk says that sort of stuff, especially when we all know she's still mourning." Buttercup placed her milkshake down, as she looked out the sliding door windows. Poor Ms. Thorn. Buttercup wished she could have done something.

…well, she did. But, that hadn't directly saved Mr. Condrad. She thought about that a lot when she was in English.

"Exactly she was being…wait whaaatt.." Boomer trailed off looking at her confused.

"When that one kid brought up her husband, how he said 'no wonder he didn't get out of the way'."

Mr. Condrad had died that day (THE day, not like that particular day they were talking about), he had pushed someone out of the way of some falling debris, if Buttercup was recalling correctly, but being an older fellow wasn't fast enough to save himself.

"I mean, I know she's sort of a bitch, but it wasn't cool to say that." She trailed off, watching the sprinkler as she had earlier that day.

Guilt racked through her stomach, which caused her to push the milkshake a little further away.

When she turned her attention back to the group, it was then that Buttercup realized she was defending the wrong person. Awesome. Boomer was sputtering, his hands up in defense for a friend who wasn't even there "Y-yeah! But, Pitts was just, ya know. She was! It's…" He was looking around for any kind of help.

"Well, it's not like we all didn't lose something that day!" He finally managed to get out, "So, why should we have to act like she's the only one that suffered? Right?" He met his brother's eyes for confirmation, then jumped to hers, looking a little desperate.

She was the first to admit that she had pushed him into an awkward corner, but he was treading dangerous unspoken territory, things the whole group hadn't spoken about altogether before.

Blossom politely cleared her throat. And Bubbles was tapping on the table, Buttercup could see she was desperately racking her brain for any other subject to change the conversation to.

But Boomer was always really good at talking himself into a hole, not that Buttercup believed this was his fault. She wasn't paying attention. She chose the wrong side. This is what she meant by always messing up around them.

"Boomer." Brick warned, his eyes narrowing.

"I mean look at us! We lost something, an obvious something, and I'm not biting off heads for being late. And Buttercup!" He turned again to face her so fast, she was surprised he didn't suffer from whiplash. He was so worked up, she couldn't believe he wasn't accidentally floating. They did that sometimes.

…oh wait.

"Boomer!" Brick warned again more loudly, and his muted red eyes resembled the blaze they once held, but could no longer recall.

Haha, she mentally scolded herself, how could she forget? Boomer was right, it was obvious. How did she always seem to forget? She had literally already thought about it like twice today.

"And Buttercup! You…" He trailed off, probably realizing what he was saying, "well, ya know you basically…well." He made a motion with his hand, weakly mimicking someone getting stabbed in the gut, but she could tell his heart wasn't really in it anymore. After the little rendition, the rest of the group all started sputtering things, and bickering, and covering things up like they always did, but it didn't matter because she wasn't listening.

A new guilt (clearly a perpetual emotion of hers) was filling her up, because Boomer wasn't floating, and Brick's eyes weren't glowing, and that was normal now. They weren't doing those things, because they couldn't anymore. They had lost their powers because of her, just like how people had lost their lives because of her.

If she had been a millisecond faster, would things be different? Would things be closer to normal?

She looked up from the counter she had been burning a hole in, and met the only other green eyes in the room. At one point he must have walked in and his presence didn't make her feel any better. Their relationship, of course, did not start out well, and when the truce was called it was always on rocky territory.

They had just been getting along better, like Bubbles and Blossom had accomplished with their own counterparts (and then the other two brothers) when things hit the fan. Now how could she look at him and think they could be anything more then "my brothers hang out with your sisters and so do I, I guess. So, we tolerate each other"? How could she be friends with any of them?

Why did it go down the way it did?

Her stomach was churning that milkshake on fast mode and she wished she had never picked up the thing in the first place, but you couldn't undo the past, she had even asked the Professor about it once. He said no.

Butch was frowning. He was always frowning.

Today wasn't a good day.

It was quiet all the sudden, or maybe it had been the whole time and she was just hearing things (again). They were all looking at her and she felt she needed to say something. She swallowed the bile she felt was rising and cleared her throat once more.

She opened her mouth. Closed it. Opened it again. Closed it. Looked down. Looked to the side. Fixed her pajama pants, which she now noted with embarrassment had little cutesy cupcakes on them. And ran a hand through her hair, which was mostly dry now and probably a mess.

She nodded towards Boomer, "Ya know, um that was pretty good. The terror wasn't really there, but if this was a play, ya know you'd probably get the part." Awkwardly she let out a laugh and no one else joined in.

Whoever said laughter was the best medicine needed to get their ass seriously whooped.

"Well," She continued on "That milkshake was really good. Thanks Bubbles. I should go...uh, do homework now." She made a move for the exit, "Been sort of lazy this weekend. Gotta play catch-up." Butch stepped aside as she offered one final and awkward parting gift, a few finger guns as a goodbye. When she was pretty sure they could no longer see her, she shot up the stairs.

Next thing she knew, she was tracing that little crack on the pink faded wall and all she could think about was Ms. Thorn.

* * *

The car ride back home was quiet, and Boomer sulked watching the rows of houses zip by. Butch was speeding, which he probably needed to stop doing, Boomer thought, because they were good boys now.

"Well you know!" Brick broke the silence, mimicking the comment Boomer had said only a half-hour earlier, hand motions included. Brick then proceed to repeat the sentence again, louder and with more dramatic arm flailing, "Seriously? Why would you do that, of all things?"

"Yeah." Butch, fumbling with the aux cord, agreed with much less enthusiasm, "That was dumb."

Boomer slipped down the back seat even further, "Oh, right like you two were any better! At least I tried making some decent conversation!" He said pouting, he then pointed to Brick, "You flirted with Blossom the whole time, and you," Pointing to Butch, "didn't say, like, anything!"

Butch snorted and Brick scoffed, "Decent! That was hardly conversation! You literally brought up the time where she almost died for us not once, but twice."

Boomer straightened up, pissed that he was being called out for a mistake he obviously knew he made, crossed his arms, and with a huff he responded, "Well, it all worked out anyway didn't it!"

In hindsight, that was not a good answer, but in his defense, he talked out of his ass when he was pissed.

Brick turned around from his spot in the passenger seat, and through gritted teeth and a deadly blaze in his eye, he whipped off his hat and proceeded to hit his younger brother with it.

"We." Smack.

"Want." Smack.

"Her." Smack.

"To." Smack.

"Like." Smack.

"Us!" Smack.

Of course, Boomer did not just sit there and take this abuse.

"I." Dodge.

"Know." Swipe

"Ow!" Jab.

"That!" Dodge.

Butch, who was trying to drive while being hit with stray hands, elbows, and hats, also participated in the rough housing, smacking said stray appendages away and swatting at the two people fighting in his car. The car was dangerously swerving, and they had already driven a few people off the road.

"I." Push.

"Am." Swerve.

"Trying." He hissed, after an elbow connected with his temple.

"To." The car tilted dangerously on its tires, as he shifted back to the appropriate lane.

"Drive!" He hit the brakes with no warning, basking in the small groans his brothers made as they smacked forward.

"Next time," Butch stated smugly, "wear your damn seatbelts, assholes."

With that he turned up the stereo, finally satisfied with the playlist he had picked.

* * *

Disclaimer: I don't anything!


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: I feel like this chapter is just more world building, so it comes off as a bit slow and wordy! I think the next chapter may be like that too, but I had fun writing it so enjoy!

(I don't own anything)

* * *

School, after hours, were always subliminal places. It was probably due to a combination of things, like subpar lightening, echoing hallways, and that weird school smell that reminded her of glue, even though she was pretty sure she hadn't used glue since middle school.

Well, maybe she used glue a few times, but it was on the rare occasion for sure.

Only a few people were left mingling around, mostly attending to whatever business their after-school activity had assigned them. Fall sports were outside practicing, she could hear them hollering.

She wasn't here after hours for an activity though, she didn't have one. Her sisters did, but she wasn't really interested in student council or art club or whatever her sisters had chosen. She wouldn't mind being on a sports team of some sort, but the school board had ultimately decided that wouldn't be fair to the rest of the schools on account of her powers.

So, she didn't have an activity or anything, which hadn't been too bad up until that point because she had been busy protecting the city. Now, she just sort of meandered around until she decided it was acceptably late enough to go get ready for bed. At least her homework was getting done.

She was at school after hours because her homeroom teacher, Mr. Barth, had asked if she'd help take care of some heavy boxes. It was very uneventful, but the secretary in the office, this crinkly old woman with red lipstick smudge on her face, gave her two (2) chocolate chip cookies, so it wasn't an entire waste.

The breeze was blowing in from the side door opened near her locker, and she breathed in the last lingering bit of warm air that the beginning of fall was offering. A storm was rolling in, the weather man said it was going to be a shitty weekend, though he nixed the word shitty.

She adjusted the shoulder strap of her duffel bag tightly, so it clung to her better. It was always awkward flying with a bag constantly slapping you in the legs. Buttercup realized she should probably consider getting a normal book-bag, instead of the dingy duffel bag she used, but book bags weren't usually big enough to hold the things she needed.

Which were her books obviously, a first aid kit (duh), an extra uniform to change into (teachers usually didn't like their students to be covered in monster junk or blood), an extra-extra change of underwear (because who knows, ya know?), her charger, a few snacks, as well as her lunch.

She didn't carry it from class to class, just home and back, but a regular book-bag would probably be easier to deal with. It's just…she didn't want to part with it just in case. Murphy's law, right? She'd have to ask the Professor or Blossom, whoever she saw first.

Going off that logic maybe she _should_ forget her duffel bag. Maybe then things would actually semi-work in her favor. She'd actually get to punch something again, instead of just the simulations the training room was spitting out.

With a sigh, she finally shut her locker and began the walk out of the building. In the parking lot, she was about to shoot into the sky when she paused mid-take off. From across the parking lot she recognized Ms. Thorn. It had been a whole week since last Friday, when Boomer's friends had mouthed off.

Buttercup watched her intently now in class to see if the older women showed any discontent towards her. She watched for anything at all that could possibly show Ms. Thorn was still beat-up about the whole thing. She wished there was an easy way to ask a teacher if they blamed you about the death of their husband. Buttercup had thought about asking her after class a few times but could never think of the right words to say.

If she couldn't figure out a way to actually say sorry, Buttercup figured she could at least tell the other side of the classroom to shut up if they got out of hand. She didn't know if it would work, but she had some merit of authority in this town so she figured she try.

A week had gone by though and little to no disruption warranted her involvement. Ms. Thorn could typically handle everything on her own and the one time she may have needed help, Boomer actually told his friend to shut it instead. Speaking of Boomer, he had actually showed up to class on time twice and the other three times he had managed to get there early. So, Buttercup wondered if his 3rd hour teacher was letting him out early or something because of his tardiness.

Her mental train of thought was digressing though, the MVP of the moment was Ms. Thorn. She watched as the frizzy haired women shuffled herself into her car and drive off, which meant Buttercup had lost her opportunity to do something for her this week. Whatever that something would be she didn't know, but hey she had a whole year to figure it out, right?

Maybe she could lift some boxes, see if her gutters needed cleaning. Buttercup snorted, taking off into the air. Nothing said "I'm sorry for the lose I could have prevented if I had been conscious" like doing yard work.

She landed on her front lawn seconds later and went to check the mail. Walking up the path, she paused flipping through the junk to look towards the city. You could barely see the skyscrapers if you didn't have super vision. Half a year ago, she wouldn't be home for another four or five hours. Her shoulders slumped a bit, as she continued to stare longingly, as if she could materialize a monster with only the heat of her stare.

After a moment, she let out a sigh and turned back towards the home.

"Home!" She called out, opening the door.

Crossing the threshold, she took a deep breath, inhaling that good 'ol home smell. She dumped the mail on the coffee table and stomped her way upstairs.

"I said, I'm HOME!" She repeated on her way up and basked in the tiny victory of making all the pictures on the wall shake a bit.

 _I am Buttercup. Hear me roar._

Sort of made her want to watch a dinosaur movie or something.

"Downstairs, dear!" Her father called from the lab.

She wasn't surprised he was home this early. She had thought he may have still been at the university, but he had been spending more time at home lately. Probably for her sake.

She had been doing her best to avoid any conversation about Sunday, which was getting increasingly difficult. The Professor wasn't outright saying anything, but he was hovering to the point that she was clearly receiving the message. He had even started to leave motivational quotes in her lunches, which were sweet in theory, but also very embarrassing.

Especially when that note slipped out of her lunch bag, and she failed to notice until Brick was reading it out loud and Boomer had started choking on whatever he's was stuffing his face with.

"Who's dumplin' Lumpy Pie?" Brick snorted, "Seriously, own up."

He had waved the little note around for everyone at the table to see. Even Butch had pulled his attention away from his phone to pay an ounce more attention than he usually did.

Her sisters were definitely smiling and throwing her looks, but they at least had the good grace (and self-preservation) to keep their mouths shut. Why the Professor only called _her_ those embarrassing names was beyond her!

She didn't own up, by the way.

Moving on from that agonizingly painful memory, Buttercup stepped into their room tossing her bag to her side (she wouldn't hear the end of it if she didn't) and flopped back on her bed, kicking her legs up into the air. She stayed like that for a moment examining her black sneakers. She wore either those or some sort of boot almost every day, it didn't matter which, both were practical in a fight.

Letting her legs drop, she kicked the shoes off. They landed, teetering close to the edge of the imaginary border that separated her side from Blossoms, but Buttercup didn't bother to fix it. Blossom could deal, she wasn't even home right now. Instead, she laid there debating whether or not she should change out of her clothes now or just wait till after dinner.

Pajamas sounded nice, but what if there was a call?

Letting her mind wander from her uniform, to her homework, to the dust motes the light streaming in was reflecting Buttercup wasn't aware she was falling asleep until the closest door had banged shut.

Her eyes snap open wide, as she jolted awake. After swallowing the heart-wrenching scream that had made its way up her throat, the panic subsided and her breathing regulated as she recognized that she was still in the bedroom and the danger was actually just Bubbles ripping the room apart. Not that that was better or anything.

Buttercups flight or fight reactors fired up again almost immediately when Bubbles whipped around to face her, "What are you doing!" The blond barked, eyeing her defensive stance.

Relaxing a little bit, Buttercup mumbled "Um, I think I feel asleep?" She ended the sentence like a question, hoping that was the right answer. Bubbles was obviously in a mood. She looked like an angry animal, hunched over and going a little red. Buttercup at least had a consistent set of moods, Bubbles went from zero to hundred with the snap of a finger.

She was so defensive about things, especially when the baby didn't get her way.

"Where are you going!" Bubbles demanded blocking the door and Buttercup threw her hands up and pointed to downstairs, trying not to make prolonged eye-contact.

It only upsets the beast.

Bubbles glare tightened, as she placed her hands on her hips, "Are you not going to ask what's wrong!"

She looked around the partly destroyed room, "What's wrong?"

"What's wrong? What's. Wrong!" Bubbles basically screeched, her voice steadily rising higher and higher, "What's wrong is my outfit Buttercup! Obviously!"

Oh. Then why make her ask? Buttercup didn't snap back though, she liked living. You could trust her on that, she had tried the whole dying thing. Didn't work out too well for her.

"I am here, in this room, and I have nothing to wear. The shirt I did want to wear is no where to be found. And even if I can find it, it wouldn't be good enough! All we have are stoooopid uniforms and we can't just keep wearing those!" Bubbles had begun panting, as she paced back and forth kicking any offending item out of the way.

"I have my _own_ style, my _own_ taste. I don't wa _nt_ to look like 'Blossom' or 'Buttercup'" She

mocked, slamming the door that Buttercup had just opened, shut. "Oh! Does this not matter to you? Too cool for little Bubbles! Don't want to listen to me, huh?" She threw her hands in the air, squeaking.

"Geez, what's your deal?" Buttercup rolled her eyes, crossing her arms. She could no longer resist snapping back. "It's. A. Shirt."

"A shirt! Ugh!" She stomped, "UGH!" She stomped again, "Of course, you wouldn't understand. My stuff is missing! And I look gross! And everyone's here and ready downstairs!" Her overly sensitive sister complained on the verge of tears, which made Buttercup shrink away.

"And I just know Blossom took my shirt!"

"Bubbles you look fine with what you have on!" There was no talking down a frustrated Bubbles until she got her way (whatever that was). She edged towards the door again. "I'm serious, you look…cute?" Gesturing vaguely at the distraught sister in front of her.

Bubbles sniffed and pursed her lips, taking in her words.

"…Really?" She pouted.

"Yeah—" Buttercup was cut off by Blossom, who slammed the door open, missing Buttercups body by a hair.

"Bubbles! Come on! Everyone's waiting! Oh, sorry BC. Where have you been, we've been looking?"

Bubbles huffed, looking away and crossing her arms.

"Napping." She pointed towards her bed. They literally shared a room; how could she miss her?

"What's even going on?" Buttercup asked, peeling herself off the wall.

"Timmy Peterson is throwing a party tonight and we're all going over together. Remember?" Blossom answered quietly, eyeing the door, "But remember the Professor doesn't know. Maybe we should just tell…" She trailed off.

Weird, Buttercup did not remember. Even the name Timmy Peterson wasn't ringing a bell.

"No!" Bubbles whined, "You won't ruin my night anymore then you already have, necklace thief!"

"Is that what you're mad about! It goes better with my outfit Bubbles." Blossom gaped and Buttercup threw her head back with a groan.

Of freaking course! She wasn't going to stand here while her sisters argued over a necklace. She had been sleeping, did they know how hard that was for her!

…

Well no, she hadn't told them that, but sheesh. She made a dramatic huffy exit and floated towards the stairs. Stopping at the top and unfolding her arms, her scowl faded as she looked down below her into the living room.

Bubbles was right. _Everyone_ was downstairs. The whole group consisted of the various kids the girls associated with most. She didn't even really know everyone they associated with, but the big names were there. She heard Robin in the kitchen, the boys were near the front door, and following them around was Mitch, who was himself being followed religiously by the twins. Floating in between them all were a bunch of secondary characters she never knew what to do with, but wave and say the occasional hello to.

It was loud (how had she not waken up sooner?) and she wanted to turn back around to save herself from the social anxiety, but Bubbles was upstairs and she had a feeling that wasn't going to end pretty if she stayed around her any longer.

Still, she hovered above the first few steps in the dark safety of "no-man's land" debating her choices. Her grumbling stomach made the choice for her and she floated forward. Halfway down she landed out of respect to the boys, because she figured it was the little things that would show them she was trying and caught a glimpse of her reflection in the glass of one of the various hanging pictures.

She really wished she hadn't bothered to look. Her hair was smushed on one side and sticking up at weird angles and the tunic of her uniform was crumpled. Her long comfy sweatshirt was calling out to her and she wanted to go back and change, but…well, Bubbles.

She sighed, moving on down the stairs trying to flatten her hair with her hands in vain, as she plotted a way to the laundry room without be detected. She probably had a change of clothes in there.

"Buttercup!" Welp, too late. Boomer waved and she threw a weak smile in his direction, as all the minions around him shifted their gaze to her at, creepily, the same time. They all smiled back.

"Oh, Buttercup. Good you're-" The Professor, who had stuck his head out from the kitchen when her name was called, paused as the doorbell rang, "Oh! Even better! Buttercup, dear, would you get that? I ordered take-out as a surprise, just sign the receipt I already tipped! I have something to finish up in the lab." He disappeared back into the fray.

"Sure Professor." She shrugged, but her small smile didn't drop. Take-out was exactly what she wanted, hopefully he had gotten spring rolls!

Pfft, of course he got spring rolls. This was the Professor. Giving up on her hair, she dropped her hand. Brushing her face, as she made her way towards the door, she realized with slight disgust that she still had copious amount of drool on her. She ducked under an arm and brushed past Brick and a few others, more focused with wiping it off then the light conversation starters being aimed her way.

She nodded off a few responses, but ultimately the house guests went unnoticed. She wanted that take-out.

Opening the door, the delivery guy wasted no time "Hey, this the Utonium residence? I just ne..ee." The poor guy trailed off when he looked up from the receipt and Buttercup raised an eyebrow right back at him.

Did she still have drool on her face?

"A-re…are you Buttercup?"

"Uh, yeah. Hey. Do you need me to sign something?" She tried her to best to sound causal and not hangry.

"Like from the Powerpuff Girls?"

"The one and only." She shrugged.

The poxed marked boy in front of her blinked rapidly for a moment, "Whoa. Wow! The Buttercup!"

She couldn't help but smile a bit, "Yeah, The Buttercup."

"Can I have your autograph?" He all but yelped.

"Can I have my take-out?" She said eyeing the bags sitting on the porch. The boy turned a little pink.

"O-oh yeah. Sorry, I, uh forgot. I just need the receipt signed. Uh, and in the bag is a new promotional coupon." Taking the paper from him, she quickly slapped on her name as he continued to ramble on.

He was also definitely looking into their home, which made her feel a little weird, but that's what happens when you were a little famous.

"Having a party?" He asks a little dazed, ignoring the receipt she's was trying to hand back.

Looking back towards her living room she paused before answering, "Uh, I don't think so?"

He nodded, passing her the food and finally grabbing the little paper. They both stood there a moment while she inspected the food. On top were some beautifully golden spring rolls, so score one for Buttercup.

"Have a good night." He said probably noticing her satisfied smile after she had looked back up at him.

"Hey, wait." Pausing on the step he whipped back around like an excited dog and she offered up another small smile, tilting her head back a bit to motion him over, "Uh, you forgot your autograph. If you still want one? What's your name?"

"Tom." He beamed at her and she gave a quick nod.

Closing the door a bit, she pulled out the pre-signed papers they kept in the side-table by the front. It was Bubbles idea because they had the occasional brave kid come up to the door to ask for one. The ones they gave to kids generally had words of encouragement written on them, as well as their names. She opted to just give this guy a generic one, but she scribbled a quick thank-you above her signature to personalize it.

That always made people happy and that held true with Tom. She shut the door after returning his cheery goodbye and adjusted the bags in her hands, but not before she snagged a spring roll.

She stuffed as much spring roll as she possibly could into her mouth and made her way to the kitchen. In the brief time she had spent with Tom, the home seemed even more disorganized. She dodged a pillow, once again had to duck under an arm (this time Butch's, who she think had something to do with the blaring music coming from the sound system in the living room, if the playlist on his phone screen was anything to go by), nodded at a girl named either Jenny or Jamie (couldn't smile, mouth full), and hopped over the legs littering the pathway.

The further she got into the house, the more people gathered behind her, anxious to get a bite of the take-out. She wondered if there'd be enough and made the mental note to save a carton for the Professor. She highly doubted that the Professor had ordered with the whole group of kids on his mind.

"Food!" She called, specifically to her family when she reached the kitchen island.

They all swarmed like vultures and much like the animals, they waited until she had picked through the bags first, though she bet that had something to do with the possessive glare she couldn't quite control at the moment. So, sue her, she was hungry, politeness be damned. This wasn't even their house! She ripped open a chopstick package using her teeth, piled up some food, and dug in.

When she fell back they attacked, but not before she swiped some extra boxes for the Professor and her sisters.

"BC!" Mid-bite Buttercup turned towards the voice.

"'Sup."

Robin, with a long sigh, smiled, "Waiting on Bubbles, what else?"

Swallowing, Buttercup rolled her eyes, "Might be a while."

Robin shrugged, wearing her ever-present easy grin, "Eh. You coming to the movie with us tonight?" She winked.

She took the moment to scoop more food into her mouth, suppressing a cringe. It had never occurred to her she had been invited to the party- not that the lack of invitation stopped people from going to parties at their age. She shifted, chewing on her words. She knew she didn't want to go, who would she even hang out with. She would likely lose the three people (her sisters and Robin) she'd actually have fun with and not be awkward around in the crowd, and she'd end up in some corner the whole night refusing drinks. Also, she'd probably have more fun if she wasn't worried something may happen to the town the whole night.

You never knew! And now that kids her age were experimenting with alcohol she didn't want to deal with the social pressure that she also had to experiment with the stuff. She had to stay alert for the town, especially if her sisters were going out. Someone needed to be listening for the hotline. Just in case.

 _She needed to let it go._

"Oh, uh…" She finally responded, only for Robin to put up a finger.

"Sorry Buttercup, one second. Butch!"

The boy in question turned reluctantly away from the orange chicken, "Hmm."

"Could you _please_ change the music to something more bearable? Like more "go-ey out-ey", not," She waved her hand in the air, "whatever this is."

He rolled his eyes scowling, " _This_ is good music tweety, but whatever. I'll change it to something a little more white-girl basic for you."

"Hey, Mr. Doom-and-Gloom not everyone wants to start their Fridays out depressed!"

"And not everyone wants to start it out with a headache either." He stated dryly.

Robin rolled her eyes and the two went back and forth for a bit, until Butch hit his word limit. And that's when Mitch stepped in.

"Aw come on babe," He smiled, exposing the crooked teeth braces could never fix, wrapping an arm around his girlfriend (personally, Buttercup thought it was an odd match) "we always listen to your playlists."

Butch stared smugly at Robin, who proceeded to stick her tongue out at him and turned to her.

"Buttercup! Tell them!"

Buttercup faced stuff to maximum, so she probably resembled a squirrel of some sort, froze. She didn't know what Robin wanted her to tell them, or why it was her anyway who had to "tell them" considering she had been bobbing along to music.

She swallowed thickly, "Uh…"

"Oh, Buttercup dear! Did you get the food?" The Professor's smile faltered when his eyes caught the dismal amount of food that had been left.

Saved by the bell. Again.

"Yeah, here." She floated up to the hiding place where she had kept the extra cartons she hid on top of the cabinets. The kitchen had cleared up considerably after the Professor had arrived.

Go dad.

"Oh, thank you! Smart thinking, I should have ordered more." He talked through mouthfuls. Looks like she wasn't the only one starved. "Tomorrow night though, we'll need something healthier, like a salad." He mumbled on to himself about ingredients and fish.

"I don't want to be that guy, but I think the labs smoking." Brick, one of the few still left in the kitchen, pointed out causally leaning next to his brother. Truly nothing fazed them, Butch didn't even bother to turn.

The Professor whipped his head around, panic in his eyes. The next moment consisted of a few things, first the Professor (the drama-queen) dropped his container of food, that Buttercup caught with ease before it hit the ground. Then, the Professor, with no protection whatsoever, went running towards the smoking entry-way. There was an obvious chemical smell and Buttercup, in her years of experience being a superhero, knew that humans didn't mix well with chemical fires.

So, while catching the food her father had dramatically tossed to the ground (and people wonder where Bubbles got her flair from), she also stuck out her foot effectively tripping the Professor and preventing him from running further into danger. Thank the heavens no one else was in the direction of the lab.

To stop him from falling on his face though but lacking the free hand as she was holding both his food and her own, she tossed her own food up in the air. With the free hand caught her father in the middle of his free fall and quickly righted him, then causally stuck out her hand again and to her glee watched her food container land perfectly on her palm.

She went back to eating, also particularly unfazed by the events that had just occurred. They were a normal she was used to.

"Professor!" Blossom came zipping in to inspected the commotion (super-hearing, ya know?). "You know better then to break lab accident protocols. Please, leave it to one of us. We don't want to see you hurt." She firmly reprimanded.

Their parental figure looked away innocently, and Blossom's stern look faded to an affectionate smile, playfully she rolled her eyes, "I'll take care of it, don't worry."

Buttercup could already see the frost seeping out of her mouth, as Blossom briskly walked to the lab door. This event had made this their most exciting Friday in a while, which was sad to admit.

"Hey what's going on? Shouldn't we be heading to the par—" Boomer froze as he looked at the Professor, and his brothers who stood behind the man shaking their head, silently telling him to shut up, "—movie? It should be starting soon. Hiya Professor. Thanks for the food." Boomer gave him a cheeky smile. Brick scoffed.

The Professor looked at him intensely, "Movie, huh? Which one?"

"Oh, you know, the new one." Boomer nodded, his eyes darting to his brothers.

"I don't."

Boomer coughed, "It's uh about like this girl, I don't remember the title." Boomer squinted at Butch's phone from across the room, that Butch and Brick were frantically pointing too; the screen showed which movie they were supposedly seeing.

She was impressed, they really planned out this alibi. They had even gone so far as to check which movies were actually out right now. They weren't ex-cons for no reason. The Professor jerked his head around, but in the second that it had took, the other two brothers had seemingly gone back to their usual positions. Brick was lounging, popping gum and Butch was messing around on his phone.

"Ah!" Boomer snapped his fingers, after discreetly examining his own phone, "It's the new Freedom Gal movie." He smiled easily, "You know how much Blossom loves her."

"Hmm." The Professor looked doubtful but gave up on the 3rd degree.

Bubbles finally walked in around then, make-up and hair done to a "T" (she followed way too many beauty blogs), "What's going on? Where's Blossom?"

"Bubbles, you look lovely dear." Their father complimented.

She really did, Bubbles had always loved dressing up. She had crazy hair though, that made everyone's morning a living hell because she spent like five hundred hours in the bathroom getting ready.

Bubbles perked at the compliment, "Thank you Professor!"

"Yeah. You do." Boomer agreed, his eyes going soft. It was the only thing that he did that ever gave Buttercup the indication that he may have more then friendly feelings towards her sister. And the way Bubbles shined at his agreement, sometimes made her think that Bubbles may have felt more than friendly with him as well.

Bubbles giggled, "Oh shucks, thanks Boomer. I just threw this on."

Buttercup ignored the look the Professor shot Boomer, as she paused mid-bite to stare at Bubbles. Pfft, "threw this on" Buttercup mouthed, shaking her head. Oh, please!

Butch, out of the corner of her eye, snorted at her antics.

Blossom came back a few moments later, "Done! Just stay out of the lab for a while, okay Professor. Are we ready to go?" She addressed the group.

"Oh, but girls! You haven't eaten yet. Maybe you should stay, get a bite, the others can leave and you can meet them at the movies. I'll drive!" Professor suggested.

The girls blinked at their father and Bubbles smiled sickly sweet.

"Daddy, they have food at the theater. And we're sort of running behind."

"Skip the previews then. They'll save you seats."

"Oh, um. Thanks Professor, but um. They're already all here and I love Freedom…Gal" Blossom rambled, her guilt plainly showing.

Man, they needed to get out of there soon. Blossom looked like she was going to crack and spill the whole party.

Dun duna dun nna, Buttercup to the rescue!

"Hey dad, speaking of everyone being here, I think I saw some kids checking out your golf stuff. Remember last time? How your clubs ended up bent…" She trailed off in mock thought, tapping her finger against her cheek.

The Professor jumped, running out of the room towards the den, "Not my clubs!"

There was a collective sigh of relief in the kitchen.

"Thanks Buttercup." Blossom said, taking the dumplings Buttercup handed over and shoved a few into her mouth.

"We should probably get going before he comes back." Brick said with a nod and they all shuffled out of kitchen. For a lack of anything better to do she also followed.

Robin looked back at her, "Buttercup, more power to you and all, but are you really going out looking like that?"

"There's a lot to unload in that sentence Robin." She gave her friend a dry look. Jeez, so her hair was a little messy, sue a gal for napping.

Robin made a show of rolling her eyes, "No, I mean. You are coming right? What's with the uniform?"

All eyes were on her again.

"We have been talking about this party since Thursday Butters." Bubbles frowned, "Remember, Boomer mentioned that he wanted _usssss_ to come."

Buttercup frowned, why stress the word 'us' so much?

Boomer voiced his agreement, "And we wanted to go because Brick said Timmy Peterson was a jerk."

"No, I said he was a bitch face son of a whore who I hate. Isn't that right Butch." Brick said resting his elbow on Blossom's shoulder, she made a face, but didn't make a move to push him away.

"Yeah. He's a bitch." Butch agreed, per usual, with whatever nonsense Brick was going on about. Buttercup was pretty sure it was automatic at this point.

Even Mitch backed up Brick, "His rant was all over picspeak and so was the fight afterschool! You were totally in the right Brick, Peterson's a top-notch douche. Ain't that right Butch?"

Butch looked at him with clear disinterest, but the twins swooped in to save Mitch the embarrassment and gave their own cheers of agreement.

Now that everyone was mentioning it, Buttercup thought, she did vaguely remember the events that took place yesterday. But, Thursday at lunch was definitely when the note fiasco had taken place, so they must have mentioned it when she was stewing with embarrassment.

"If you don't like him and he doesn't like you, why go?" She asked confused.

"Cause his girlfriend does, so I'm going to flirt with her to establish dominance," Brick shrugged, "Butch's going to fuck with his car, and Boomer's going to—"

"—Boomer's going to get fucked up!" Boomer cheered interrupting, "That house is so going to be trashed!"

The brothers high-fived and the surrounding group joined in laughing. The girls though, shared a look.

"He needs to be humbled. That's what happens when you mess with us." The brothers continued going back and forth building each other up.

Shaking her head Blossom turned to Buttercup with a smile, "Ignoring the vendetta, it's supposed to be fun."

"And," Bubbles added more quietly, so much so only two superpowered people could actually hear her talking, "I really think you should go…ya know, everyone's staying stuff."

"What kind of stuff?" She asked a little insulted.

Blossom frowned, "Well, that you think you're too good for everyone. Buttercup, you have become a little more distant. Bubbles and I, well—"

"—Is everything okay?" Bubbles finished coming in closer.

Buttercup's heart sunk. People were noticing? Of course, people were noticing! How was it their business anyway? Ugh, dammit!

She scowled, "Too bad, I'm staying home. Someone has to. What about the hotline? It's our job. They can freaking deal with it." She crossed her arms.

Bubbles, who wasn't in her best mood to begin with, also crossed her arms, "It's coming off as rude Buttercup. They want to be your friend and you brush them off with lame excuses. Like lunch last weekend, how you were "sleeping". News flash, that dumb hotline isn't ringing anytime soon!"

"Bubbles. Buttercup. Chill. We're causing a scene." The three looked back at the group, who were all staring intensely at them now that the boys had calmed down. Blossom continued, motioning them into a tighter circle, "No one's asking you to stay behind Buttercup and no ones forcing you to come, but just know that down the line if you keep this up you won't have friends to fall on."

Buttercup huffed, "News flash," She mimicked, "aside from Robin none of them are my friends."

Bubbles gasped, "That's not true, what about the boys!"

How blind could these girls be! She wanted to scream. They only hung out with her because they hung out with them. Plain and simple.

"Are you coming or not?" Blossom hissed.

Buttercup glowered at them for a second and then looked away, "No."

"Fine." Bubbles said crossly.

"Fine." Buttercup replied.

"Fine." Blossom agreed rolling her eyes.

Then in sync they turned back to the larger group with fake smiles on their faces.

"Sorry everyone!" Bubbles cooed.

"Buttercup's volunteered to stay behind. Friday nights can be a little tricky with the hotline!" Blossom supplied.

"Maybe next time." She shrugged, "Sorry about that. Have fun though."

There was a pause in the crowd, especially between the people who knew how un-tricky the hotline had been as of late.

"Oookay, well…Why are we still standing here? Let's go trash a house!" Brick commanded impatiently using Butch as a human bulldozer to move people out of the trio's way. Butch did his job well.

Boomer wrapped a friendly arm around Bubbles pushing her along with him. They walked away whispering about something, but since she wasn't listening for it, their conversation was masked by the crowd.

Buttercup waved to Robin, who followed Mitch out and Blossom stayed by her for a few more seconds as everyone else filtered out.

"What, Bloss?"

Blossom opened her mouth and then shut it with a frown, ultimately following the crowd to the party.

The Professor ran back into the room as the last few people trailed out, "Wait! My little angels! Be safe!"

"Professor!" Came two distant groans outside.

Buttercup watched the Professor slump a bit when he heard the retreating cars, probably laminating about how they were growing up so fast.

"They're growing up so fast." He mumbled, slouching into a chair, "Oh, with their "movies", friends, and _boys_."

Bingo.

"We can watch a movie together, Professor." She offered, settling onto the couch beside him.

He jumped, "Oh Buttercup! You startled me. Why aren't you going out with your sisters?"

"Ugh, not you too." She said frowning, "Sorry, that's just not my thing." She grabbed the remote and started flipping through the channels, stopping on a poorly made dinosaur flick.

"Of course, but…wouldn't you rather hang out with friends?"

"Didn't you want us to stay home? What's the big deal?"

"Now Buttercup. There's a difference between a father wanting his daughters to stay little forever and a parent concerned about…well." He stopped, rubbing at his neck.

"Well, what?" She spit while she glared at the TV.

"Well, I don't know how to exactly phrase it dear. You seem stuck, if our conversation last week is anything to go by and I hate seeing you this unhappy."

She so badly wanted to deny it, but he already sort of knew didn't he. Her glare dropped.

"Yeah, well, like you said transitions are hard."

"Yes, they are, but they don't have to be bad. Change can be sudden and scary, but good things can come out of it. They help mold you. You can't stay home forever clinging to the hotline Buttercup. There's still life out there worth living."

She rolled her eyes, "What am I supposed to do Professor? I thought I told you, I'm at lose here."

"Go outside and get back out there! Invite a friend out and get into some healthy teenage hijinks. Why I got into all sorts of trouble when I was young! It builds character."

"It sounds boring." Buttercup scoffed crossing her arms, "Fighting's my cup of tea, not going to the mall food court, like Bubbles and Blossom's friends.

Well, you've got to find your people Buttercup, and those people may not necessarily be the same people that your sisters spend time with. That's okay dear. You're not the same three girls. Focus on what you're interested and you'll find them."

The conversation hit a lull and Buttercup turned towards the cheesy flick on the screen. Stuck had been a good word.

"It was my whole life Professor, I don't know anything else. I-I didn't think it would be like this." She said dully.

"Well, we have a whole lifetime to figure out how to move on. This is your chance at a happy, safe life." Something sad touched his eyes and he looked far away, "You almost missed out on that, we can't waste it now."

Buttercup knew where his mind was. He had stayed with her every night at the hospital, she could only imagine what had been going through his head, "Okay, I'll try dad." She smiled, squeezing his hand.

"Thank you, sugar muffin."

Leaning on his shoulder, together they finished the movie.

* * *

The next day Buttercup woke up around eight still tired, but there wasn't anyway she'd fall back asleep. Not with the way Blossom was snoring.

They had gotten home pretty late last night, way later then any movie theater bothered staying open.

Sitting upright in bed, she smacked her lips. Outside it looked like the storm that was rolling in yesterday had made it sometime after she fell asleep. The sky was a dark gray and drizzling. Townsville was always lazy on rainy days. Stretching, she guessed everything that was suppose to happen today wouldn't.

She crept out their room to the kitchen. Yawning she read the note placed on the counter, looked like the Professor would be out this morning "running errands 3", like the girls didn't know about his dorky online dating profile. He was actually on some brunch date, for all his intelligence he always ended up syncing his calendar to the master one Blossom had programmed into their phones. They knew about all his dates.

She had actually forgotten about the date. He had left way too early, since the calendar said it was at ten, so maybe he was actually running some errands. She scratched her stomach and proceeded to pour some cereal.

Whatever, hope he was having fun. She wouldn't be today, so someone had to. There was never anything to do on rainy days, she hated them. She was so freaking bored, she needed some action. She was itching for some sort of adventure!

But, once again, it was _raining_ , so her chances had just jumped to five percent, instead of the ten it was usually at. Where were the monsters lately? She could usually count on one a week.

"uuuuUGHH!" Her head plopped onto the table.

Fine! If trouble wasn't going to come to her, then she'd find the trouble! Direct action! There had to be some slime-ball out there who needed a good pummeling! Didn't the Professor even say he wanted to see her get back out there?

Yeah! She stood confidently. She owed it to the Professor. This would be her first step! She'd make things normal again!

She marched upstairs and threw open the closet door and prepped for her day, for the first time in a long time, with enthusiasm.

"Buttercup! Shuussh!" Blossom groaned.

Cringing, Buttercup muttered a quick apology and finished getting ready. She toned it down a bit, but the spirit was still there!

* * *

She had circled this stupid town twenty freaking times now. There was absolutely nothing. No bank robberies, no car jackings, no museum looting, not even a single jaywalker. The one person that had let out a bloodcurdling scream had ended up just being fussy that the on/off again rain had ruined their hair.

The wind was whipping hard around her and the sea fray was cold, but Buttercup didn't leave the city for this dumb rock for nothing, so she shook off her discomfort.

"Come on you stupid monsters! Come fight me!" She called as loudly as she could over the wind, "I'm right here!" She jumped into the air waving at Monster Island.

Picking up a boulder she let out a frustrated scream and tossed it at the offending body of land. A moment ticked by and she slumped to the ground. She sat there in the mud of the little island she was occupying and sniffed.

The monsters weren't coming. Not today.

Throwing the rock had felt pretty good though. So, she picked up another and tossed it into the water. Then another. Then another.

The ground under her began to shift and she tumbled face first into the mud. Next to her, in the water, there was a loud splash and a shadow slowly started to swallow everything in sight. Buttercup removed her face from the dirt to look up and her heart jumped for joy.

Above her stared a grotesques water monster, dripping with sea slime and barnacles. She stood ready to face her challenger.

It opened its mouth, dumping an assortment of water and fish towards the ground. She jumped back away from the water, bracing herself for any possible sonic scream or fishy attack.

"Uh, hi." The monster gurgled. She faltered, that was no sonic scream.

"Hi?"

"I was fine with the noise that you were making and all that, but see this is kind of were I live, so if you could stop throwing rocks?" The monster squeaked.

"Oh. Uh, sorry." She apologized and the monster nodded once, as it sunk back into the water.

"Hey, wait" The monster paused before re-submerging, "You wanna fight?"

The water beast looked up at the sky, then back at her mud stained form, "Maybe later. Its kind of rainy." It gurgled, sinking back into the water.

"You live in water!" She shouted leaning forwarded to look at the retreating form, "What difference does rain make!" But the monster had already disappeared.

Rolling her eyes, she rocked back on her feet away from the edge, "Figures."

Stupid rainy days. She took off back towards the city defeated, but not before sticking her tongue out at the ripples in the water and kicking a small rock were the monster had descended. She didn't listen to no monster.

She landed back in the street, near the Townsville park. She'd probably go home soon and shower, but a store had grabbed her attention. She ignored her reflection in the town's shop window and instead examined the long board on display. She had always wanted to skateboard or something. Like she knew the fundamentals, but she didn't know _how_. She didn't have time to bother learning any cool tricks.

A commotion down the street stopped her mid-musing.

She zipped down the street so fast she was pretty sure she had broken a record (and a few windows). She crashed through the little corner grocery store, crouched to attack and eyes ablaze.

"Stop right th—" She straightened, looking around confused "—ere, Mojo…Jojo?"

Both her and the cashier shared a look before turning their attention back to the offender.

"Fine. Since you have yet to show you understand my simple request, then I will reiterate, which is to say I will repeat the command I am giving. That command being to give me the items which I requested but will not be paying for, as this is a crime, hence the laser gun of my creation pointed in your face. I will give you one more chance to…." Mojo Jojo droned on.

The cashier shook his head and with a thick accent turned to Buttercup, pointing, "Powerpuff Girl Buttercup. He has been there for five minutes now harassing my bubblegum machine, scaring my costumers. Please, make him leave!"

She sighed approaching the monkey who had failed to take notice of her yet, because he was too busy yelling at a candy machine about the goods he was trying to steal. Which she was pretty sure were just the bananas he was using as the laser gun he was spewing on about and the carton of eggs in his basket (next to the real laser gun).

He was in his robe and slippers and his cape hung off his shoulders ratty, old, and partly dragging on the ground. The once infamous Mojo Jojo was now streaked with grey fur and had a failing mind, which made her heart sink.

It was amazing how fast it had happened. One day he was there holding the town hostage and the next day he was trying to mug a gumball machine. There were little warning signs in the beginning, like him misplacing a weapon, or talking in a circular pattern for longer than normal and never truly getting to his point, she guessed no one really paid attention to this though. Who would have thought Mojo's downfall, for all his genius, would be his own mind?

She hadn't seen him in a long while.

"Mojo." She called to him approaching, "Mojo, come on let's get you home."

Finally, he turned, squinting at her through baggy eyes, "Ah! Butch! My middle son, which is not to say you are my son biologically, as you are a human and I am simian, which is not human, but also a mammal. Therefore, I am not your true father, but creator, which would make me a type of parental guardian and identifying as a male…" He began to pace and she slapped her hand to her face.

"Mojo, wait I'm not Butch. I'm Buttercup. The Powerpuff Girl." She tried interrupting.

He paused, recognition flashed through his eyes and for a moment she was hopeful, "Ah yes! You bring up an excellent point my son. The Powerpuff Girls will no doubt be at this place, which we are at, to stop me for doing the crime I am currently committing. You must help me complete the task at hand in a timely matter before those accursed Powerpuff Girls make their way to this place and apprehend us."

God, her eye was twitching, "No Mojo, I'm not Butch. We're not robbing the store. We're taking you home." She tried grabbing him, but he stayed put.

"No! We can not leave this place without the items I came to this place for, because this place has the items that we no longer have in the dwelling in which we live, or our home. We have run out of eggs that are required for a nutritious breakfast. And without the eggs, I cannot have the breakfast that I shall require, which consists of a minimum of two eggs."

She blew the fringe out of her eyes as he continued squawking on about eggs and breakfast. Trying to control her breathing and losing her patience at an incredible rate, Buttercup finally had enough.

"Augh! Fine!" She slapped ten bucks on the counter, "I bought you your eggs, lets go home!" She grabbed the monkey and his produced and dragged them out the door.

He didn't stop talking the whole walk back. She had thought about flying, but he had insisted on walking because having his "grown son" carry him was apparently degrading. He also lectured "Butch" about buying versus stealing the produce, and then moved on to "his" filthy attire. _She_ buckled him into the stair chair at the base of his observatory and let the little machine lift him up. When he was a few good feet above her still rambling on, she screamed into her hands. The guy couldn't keep things brief when they were all younger, why would she expect anything else when they got older?

Mojo Jojo wasn't just going to fade into the background as some sort of retired villain. On no, he'd find other ways to annoy Buttercup. Obviously!

Floating, she caught up to him quickly and when they reached the top knocked on the door and helped him out of the chair.

The door opened almost immediately.

"Did you fin—" Brick started and then stopped, taking in the sight before him, whoever was on the other end of his phone asked what was going on. Sounded like the actual Butch.

Probably a funny sight if she thought about it objectively. She'd probably pause too if she saw a girl covered in mud, holding onto a carton of eggs and an old looking mutated monkey.

"Buttercup, hey. You found our dad. Thanks. Mind holding on a sec? I'm on the phone with my brother." She shook her head and he ended the phone call telling which ever brother to get the other one and come home. Opening the door a bit wider, he addressed Mojo first, "Where have you even been Mojo, we've been looking everywhere for you!"

He opened his mouth, but Buttercup in a panic immediately slapped her hand over his mouth, and lifted the eggs up, "Eggs, he was trying to get some eggs."

She felt a little bad doing that to Brick's dad, but she couldn't take another explanation about breakfast.

Brick frowned, "Mojo we have eggs. I swear I'm putting a bell on you, get inside old man. Boomer and Butch are still out looking for you!"

Mojo pushed her hand away, "What are you saying? Brick, my eldest son, is your sight failing you, because clearly Butch, your brother and my second eldest son is clearly standing besides me, more specifically to the left of me."

Brick pinched at his nose, pushing the older man inside, "Dad that's Buttercup! Go to your chair. I'll get you a drink, hold on."

The monkey paused, "Wait. The Buttercup. As in Buttercup of the Powerpuff Girls, my fiercest and one of my most respected nemesis who I have vowed to defeat by any means neces—"

Brick pushed him away farther into their home or observatory, whichever term they used to refer to this place in which they lived...oh god, now she was doing it.

"Yes Mojo, that Buttercup. There's literally only one." Brick shook his head annoyed, then addressed her "Sorry, he doesn't mean it. He doesn't know, yesterday he had a full-on conversation with the chair I left my hoodie on. You don't look like Butch, it's the color palette…" He paused once again giving her a once-over, "…and the dirt. What happened?" He questioned.

She frowned. Why was he so inquisitive?

She waved him off, "Let's just move on from that. Okay?" She was fully aware of how un-feminine and pretty un-human she probably looked like right now. Right up a young Butch's ally.

"Yeah, okay." She'd be lucky if he actually meant that.

"Does he do this a lot?"

"Well, I guess. Mojo's eyesight's sort of going, so he's been a little more…confused lately." Brick sighed, shrugging.

"No, I mean does he go out and "hold-up" stores often?"

"Eh, I'm actually surprised he made it that far. Usually we can find him somewhere in the park, yelling at birds or whatever. We were pretty worried, I came back here to make sure he hadn't wandered back. I don't know how he made it so long without us living with him." Brick explained, and then seriously added, "He's not dangerous or anything, so you're not going to turn him over, right?"

She thought of the laser gun she had smashed in the parking lot, but the look in Brick's eyes made her pause, like he was daring her to say anything else but no. Powers be damned, Brick had a way of making things happen.

"Nah, just lock up the weapons I know you have in there a little better."

He tsked, "I told Boomer he was too smart for baby locks. Do you want to come in?"

She looked up at the sky, it was getting dark and it would be dinner soon.

"Thanks, but no. I should probably get home soon."

"Oh, to shower? Because you're mysteriously covered in mud for some reason? As you can see, I'm circling back to that" Brick said, using his hands to make a counterclockwise circle, "because there's this weird video of some chick by the bay…"

"Don't you have a drink to make?" She said dryly and he rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, whatever. Thanks for finding him. Seriously."

She nodded and waved off the praise awkwardly, "No biggie."

She took off before he could reply, but not in a flashy way or anything, and paused in the air to look back at the volcano. Mojo was lucky, if the boys weren't there the city would have thrown him in some hole and then lose the key. Watching a black car speed towards the park, she had to give it to the boys, when they gave you their loyalty you had it for a lifetime. There was no way Mojo would be going away anytime soon.

Which was…nice. She hadn't realized how much she kind of missed the ape. He was a living relic of the past. They both were she guessed. She'd have to visit him again, no matter how annoying he was, that had almost felt like the good 'ol days.

Sheesh, she sounded like she was sixty with grandchildren. Rolling her eyes at her own dumb antics she continued her flight. Getting to the suburbs she circled down low at a leisurely pace. With the sun going down, and the rain passing, the people of Townsville were trying to get done with the little yard work they could. She waved to the ones who looked up to watch her.

One frizzy head caught her attention more than the others and Buttercup paused to watch. The women's ladder tilted dangerously, as she struggled with her clogged gutters. In a flash, Buttercup had steady the ladder.

"Ms. Thorn, are you okay?"

The older woman looked down with wide eyes, and clutched a hand to her heart, "Much better now." She smiled, shimming down the ladder, "Thank you, Buttercup."

Buttercup shrugged, feeling stiff under the woman's gaze, "I've handled my fair share of yardwork accidents before."

Ms. Thorn smiled, "I'm sure you have. An old woman like me shouldn't be attempting that climb anymore. My knees went bad years ago. And to think, I went to school on a volleyball scholarship." She laughed, but Buttercup didn't get what was so funny. Old people always laughed about the weirdest stuff.

She played along though, "Hehe, yeah…"

"Say Buttercup," Her teacher continued, wiping away a tear, "would you be a dear and get that clump of leaves stuck in the gutter for me? I'm just a tad too short to reach it."

Buttercup shook her head a little too vigorously and floated up, clearing away the gunk.

"Done! Is there anything else I can do for you?" Buttercup asked, whipping her head around to inspect the lawn. Her hedges needed trimming.

"Ah thank you, but you've done plenty already."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive, I like the yard work. Keeps me busy. My husband, Gerald, usually took care of the roof." Her smile shrunk a bit, as she looked up to her roof, with a sigh and a shake of her head though, the grief fell away from her face.

Buttercup's guilt did not though, "I'm sorry Ms. Thorn. About what those kids said…about your husband." She trailed off.

Ms. Thorn looked at her for a moment, before recognition fluttered through her features, "Oh, Buttercup." She shook her head, "Those kids aren't anything I haven't handled before or will later on down the line. You can't be a teacher if you don't have thick skin."

Buttercup looked down, too consumed by her thoughts to end the conversation there, "I should have been there." She mumbled.

Ms. Thorn stopped and really looked at her, seriously she spoke, "What happened that day, Buttercup, wasn't up to you."

She looked up with a scowl, "But—"

"But nothing," Her teacher silenced her, "My husband was a good man who lived a full, happy life. He wouldn't have done what he had done if there was no other choice. Don't shoulder his death Buttercup, he died a hero and I couldn't be prouder of him."

Not that she would admit it, but tears were pricking Buttercups eyes, "How… how are you just okay with that? Okay with me? It's my jo—"

Her teacher placed a hand sternly up to stop her, "I'm not okay, Buttercup. I miss him more then anything. But what's happened, happened. I know he wouldn't want me to dwell in my grief, he would want me to move on. To keep pushing forward."

"Everyone keeps saying that, but how? I'm trying" She let out a long shuttering breath, gesturing to her unkempt state, "but I can't. I just want to go back, to before." She admitted hanging her head.

Ms. Thorn was quiet for a while before she said, "Well, I don't now how rolling in dirt is moving forward, but what's important Buttercup is you're trying. It still takes me longer then usual to get ready. I find myself calling to a man who's no longer there when I get home… It's so hard. One day though, I noticed the gutters were clogged and the lawn wasn't mowed, and no one was going to do those things anymore unless I did." She put a hand on Buttercups shoulder.

"Life wasn't going to wait; there are papers to grade, bills to pay, and a house to maintain. You can't move on until you're ready to, but the world has a funny way of helping you along. You just got to look for it."

Buttercup wiped her nose and looked up from the ground, "I want to be ready, I wanna go on."

"Then keep you're eyes open dear, you'd be surprised change isn't monumental. Look out for the little things." They shared a smile, "Now! Chin up, it's getting late and there's a paper due next Tuesday, why don't you go home and clean up?"

"Yeah, okay. Thank you, Ms. Thorn, are you sure you don't need anymore help?" She asked.

The older woman shook her head no, "I'm about done for the day. I have to get ready for my poker night." She called out to the girl floating above her.

Buttercup smiled, "Well, if the gutters keep acting up…just let me know."

"Will do, thank you Buttercup!" Ms. Thorn waved goodbye, walking up the path to her front door.

Back on course to home, Buttercup couldn't help but laugh to herself. It had honestly taken _yard work_ for her to say sorry to Ms. Thorn. Who would have known?

* * *

"Home!" She called out when she entered.

"In the kitchen!" The Professor hummed, "I'm just finishing up dinner, we're having fish! And for dessert, apple pie!"

"He's in a good mood." Blossom said from the couch not looking up, "He won't say why, but Bubbles is one hundred percent sure its because his date went well."

"Yeah," Buttercup scratched at her head, "explains the apple pie."

"Anyway…" Blossom put her homework down, and looked up doing a double take, "Where were you and why are you so dirty?" Blossom cringed away, eyeing her with a faint look of disgust.

"Out." She replied quickly. Blossom didn't need to know the whole truth, she wouldn't like knowing Buttercup had went out looking for trouble.

"Out?"

Buttercup nodded, "Yeah, ya know, out. Uh, throwing rocks. Around. Safely." Then she quickly added, "I wasn't near the bay, if anyone asks." Her thoughts on another certain red-head.

Blossom opened her mouth to reply, but suddenly paused, transfixed by the TV. Buttercup turned to watch as well, her eyebrows raised in curiosity. The news was running a segment, a civilian had filmed some woman screaming at the water in front of her, the most notable thing about her, besides the screaming, was she was covered head to toe in mud, with burst of greens showing through. Her face was undistinguishable.

" _Local women yelling at water...more at 8."_

"…what?" Blossom muttered, stepping closer to the tv to inspect the video.

"Ha! That's news nowadays? Weird stuff! What about dinner, again?" Buttercup sputtered, clicking the TV off.

Blossom turned to stare at her incredulously, but didn't press the matter, though she did insist Buttercup take a shower.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for making it through! I hope this chapter was bearable, I've looked at it so many times I can't stand it anymore. Sorry for any mistakes :)


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Thank you all so much for the few reviews I've gotten! They're all so kind and just make my day every time I read them! Sorry it took a bit to get this update out! Time just got away from me, but this update is pretty lengthy so I hope that makes up for it! (also, I don't own the ppgs!)

* * *

Good on her word to Ms. Thorn yesterday, Buttercup was looking out for the little life changing things. So far today, she had found one of Bubbles shirts wedged between her duffel bag and the wall, so she had thrown that back in the closet (not life changing) and right now was currently first place in the _Go! Go! Go-Karts_ game she had found in the half price bin at the supermarket a while back (very life changing).

She had won a total of six races and was going for a lucky seven before Bubbles had messed up her focus. The whole house had jolted around as Bubbles stomped down the stairs, marched down to the lab, slammed that door, and proceeded to throw a hissy fit. Buttercup had decided she wasn't going pay close attention to whatever her sister was screaming about because her winning streak had just been broken and she herself was ready to wreak havoc. It took a few deep breaths before she was able to return to her happy place.

After resetting the race, Buttercup sourly did her best to ignore all the stomping and huffing. Five minutes passed and Bubbles had once again raced upstairs. She could hear her rummaging around like she had Friday night, but Buttercup was trying to zone in on her game so she could care less. Blossom though, did not share this attitude.

Blossom, ever the perfectionist, hated unnecessary messes and from the sounds of it that was exactly what Bubbles was doing. So, Buttercup briefly turned in time to see her stomping up the stairs as well.

After another five minutes of "heated discussion" (a.k.a. cat fight) between her two sisters, Buttercup again turned to see her father reluctantly climb up the stairs. She saluted him, nodding her goodbyes to the walking dead man, as he went up. He gulped looking away from her grimly to face his untimely doom.

She was finally forced to pay attention when suddenly it had gotten weirdly quiet and then her name was called.

"Buttercup, dear!" Her father called meekly, "Can you come upstairs for a moment—"

"Family. Meeting!" Bubbles interrupted screeching.

 _Ah shit._

There was no getting out of a family meeting. She threw the controller down and slowly floated her way up to the room. Inside, she was met with a complete mess (again) where clothes, bedding, and other stuff had been flung all around, but it was nothing compared to her sister's appearances. They were each on their own beds, hair and outfits in complete disarray. Their father stood timidly between them.

Neither of them was bleeding or seriously injured, which was something she hadn't realized she was anxiously searching for. Why would she? She pushed the thought away and let out a low whistle.

"What happened?"

Blossom snapped first, as she crossed her arms throwing her nose into the air, "Bubbles is obviously throwing a totally unwarranted hissy fit over trivial stuff, which wasn't even my fault!" She said hissing the last part.

Bubbles scoffed and threw her arms into the arm, "Not her fault? Not her fault!" She cried, "Oh, please!"

The Professor sighed watching his youngest get up to stomp over to the windows, "Now, Bubbles…"

Buttercup swore she heard Bubbles neck creak like rusty hinges when she turned her head to face the Professor. Her smile was almost demented as she spoke through gritted teeth, "Professor, do not tell me to calm down right now."

The Professor's face paled.

Buttercup, on the other hand, rolled her eyes at the performance. Addressing Blossom, she asked, "What'd ya do?"

Blossom looked vaguely insulted, "I didn't _do_ anything. Do you remember that shirt she couldn't find Friday?"

"Yeah. How could I forget."

Friday had been such a headache.

"Well, she found it on my side of the closest today." Blossom tossed the shirt to Buttercup, "She thinks I must have put it there, like I would ever just leave clothing on the floor! I always hang up clothes." The sour look on her face intensified, "And now she's going around finding all sorts of things she's lost, or better yet "things we've taken" over the years and screaming about individuality."

Buttercup looked down at the shirt with masked horror. That was very much the "not life changing" shirt she had thrown in the closet earlier today.

' _Ah shit.'_ She passed the shirt off like it was on fire, hoping no one would notice.

Bubbles grabbed her shirt back and clutched it to her chest, "It's not just the shirt! Look!" She pointed to the little pile on her bed and zipped over to show off what she had found, "Earrings. Lipstick. Socks! All of this stuff is mine that I found in your spaces!"

It was a pretty insignificant pile, considering the stuffed alligator Bubbles was waving around like some madwomen was actually hers.

Buttercup tsked, "You went through my stuff? That's mine!" She ripped the stuffed animal away with a frown.

Bubbles blinked, but again her face twisted into a look, "That's not the point!"

"Seems like the point." Blossom muttered annoyed, also swiping back the lipstick and a scarf.

"No! Professor!" Bubbles turned to address their father, "The point is we aren't six anymore! I need a space where I can go and relax. A place that is my creative sanctuary, that speaks true to what I like. A place where I can have my b-uh…riends over and not be bugged. And a place." She paused dramatically between the next few words, "Where. I. Can. Be. Alone! Blossom snores!"

Blossom gasped, "I do not!"

"You totally do, but more importantly what's a b-uh…riend?" Buttercup asked.

"That's not important!" Bubbles snapped, turning pink.

After a moment she continued, "I want my own room!" She turned back to the Professor, "Oh please, Professor, please."

"Oh Bubbles, I don't know…"

"Please! Please! Please! Please! Please! PLeeeeeeaaaaassseeeeeeeee!" Bubbles repeated until she was blue in the face.

In the meantime, Buttercup rolled her eyes _again_ , but this time more out of affection for her sisters' antics. There was no way getting their own room would ever happen. Bubbles had tried this for years now and it always ended the same way.

The Professor would explain that besides the fact they had been sharing the same room since they were created, this room was the center of operations. One of the hotlines was here and it was much easier as a single father to keep his three young girls in one unified space. Plus, one of them would have to sleep down in the lab's spare room and that could be, in his words, spooky and unfair.

On a personal note, all their memories were here, and she knew for a fact, they couldn't fall asleep without each other. Was it a little cramped sometimes? Yeah, but the triplets made it work.

Her and Blossom, who had visibly relaxed at this point, shared a look and Buttercup smiled opening her mouth up to talk her sister off the ledge that she had set herself up on.

But Blossom had beat her to the punch, "While Bubbles does make some points I don't particularly agree with Professor—I don't snore-I must say I do agree with the overall concept. A space of our own would be nice." She shook her head.

' _Hold up, what she say?'_ Buttercup's subconscious echoed, as her mind came to a quick halt. Obviously, they were not on the same page Buttercup had originally thought they were.

She looked at her sister with pure disbelief, "Huh?"

"Is that so?" The Professor muttered, cradling his chin with a hand like he usually did while in thought.

Buttercup, in attempt to get attention, raised a finger, "Is that..w-would it be nice?"

Bubbles perked up, releasing the Professors legs from her death grip, "Yes! Of course, it would!" She looked back up at the Professor, "We're young women now! Not babies! Individuals with our own sets of tastes and preferences! You've said it yourself before!"

"We are?" Buttercup asked with alarm.

"Well, I have said that…"

"We have the room Professor." Blossom pointed out.

"W-we do?" Buttercups stuttered with dismay.

"We do!" Bubbles cheered.

"I suppose we do." The Professor agreed, "We can turn that old office downstairs into a room, but…"

"Professor think about it, we are really outgrowing this small room. Like Bubbles was saying, in not so many words, a room does represent the person. After a stressful day you want to be surrounded by the thing's you enjoy. What I enjoy and how I want the room to look competes with two other people." Blossom paused to gesture broadly around the room, "Personally, I think it would be nice to go somewhere where I could complete my homework without noise. I wouldn't have to take up space in the dining room. Plus, as of late, most of our fights have concerned _this_ room, if we had our own places to go to we'd fight less." Blossom finished, ever the debate queen.

"What Blossom said!" Bubbles chirped her agreement, "Oh please Professor! Please! Please! Please!"

"Hmm." He took a moment, but ultimately smiled, "Well, I don't see why not. We do have the room! But girls, you have to agree on room arrangements. I don't want any fighting!"

Her two sisters cheered, but Buttercup was too busy scooping her jaw off the floor to join in. Apparently, she wasn't on the same page as anyone else in the room. She was actually in a different book!

"I want this room!" Bubbles said.

"But it's already pink, you can have the guest room." Blossom ordered.

"No way! I can always repaint!"

"Well, I'm leader so I—"

You are soooo not pulling that card!" Bubbles interrupted. They both squared up to fight, when the Professor cleared his throat.

"Remember girls, no fighting."

They deflated.

"Fine." Blossom conceded, "You can have this room and I'll take the guest room. It would be more of a fresh new start anyway."

Bubbles smiled, clapping her hands together "So, we're in agreement?"

"I think so!" Blossom nodded excitedly.

And like that all previous misgivings were forgotten…well until the next fight they got into. Sisters, right? Buttercup huffed.

"No!" She finally managed to say but was still being ignored.

"We need to pack!"

"Pick out new paint!"

"Hello!" She protested.

"Organize!"

"Design!"

"Hey! Wait, I don't…Why do I have to sleep in the basement. Don't I have a say?" She asked, blocking the door. _Their_ door.

Her sisters shared an uneasy look, but Blossom quickly recovered.

"Well, Buttercup. No one will bug you down there. No one but us are allowed into the lab, so you don't have to worry about the group just coming in and…" She trailed off looking at the ceiling.

"And!" Bubbles picked up where Blossom had stopped, "You know how late the Professors works down there, sooo if you have any more night ter—Gah!" Blossom drove her elbow into Bubbles side quickly to shut her up. Bubbles coughed, "I mean, you know if you're up you'll have company." She laughed nervously.

It was a shitty save, too bad Buttercup had no idea what she was talking about. Did she have night terrors? No one had ever told her.

"W-wait, what do you—" She started to ask, before the Professor interrupted her.

"-Oh, Buttercup. This could be good for you. We'll make it your own. Plus, you'll have a whole bathroom to yourself!"

He smiled, "Think about how easy the morning will be now with someone finally using downstairs!"

"My own?" She whispered more to herself. She had never had anything of her own before. She had shared everything with her sisters.

"Of course!" The Professor encouraged and then more quietly to just her (like that would prevent her sisters from listening), "This could be a step in the right direction. Wasn't that part of what we were talking about? This could be what you needed Buttercup."

She looked between her father and sisters uneasily. It was just a room, right? Nothing big, right? Just a little change, like what Ms. Thorn had said.

She gave them a small and uneven smile, "Uh, okay."

Once again there was a cheer, followed by a flurry of motion, as her sisters began zipping around dividing the room up. Furniture, clothes, and just general things were being floated out at lightspeed to their new homes.

"I call the vanity!"

"We need boxes!"

"Professor! Some friends are coming over to help!"

"I think I'm going to repaint it blue!"

"Big surprise!"

Buttercup stood in the middle of it all, as she realized this wasn't going to be any incremental change. It was happening now. Robotically she picked up an empty box in front of her and made her way to the other side of the room.

She didn't have much that she considered hers. Blossom had already rushed her bed stuff downstairs and Bubbles was dealing with the closest. Buttercup peeled a few of her posters off the wall, snatched her duffel bag, some miscellaneous junk, and finally the alligator Bubbles had almost taken and placed them altogether.

Stuffed in the corner where her bed use to be, smashed against the wall was a green piece of fabric. It was pretty old now, but she snatched the "lost" security blanket up before her sisters could throw it away.

She couldn't help but sigh.

This shouldn't be that big of a deal, right? It was just a room change, but at the same time it marked the end of something. Headquarters was being shut down. In the area that Blossom had claimed to be storage, next to trash and donations, was the hotline. It was tilted on its side completely discarded. Before her very eyes the past she was clinging to was been stuffed away into storage.

And she guessed she was too, just instead of being thrown in the garage she was going into the basement. Far away from her sisters.

In the doorway of the basement room, her bed and side table had replaced the desk, cot, and filing cabinet.

The Professor wrapped a friendly arm around her shoulder. Giving her a squeeze, he said, "I know there isn't exactly a closet, but we have that extra dresser in the garage! And I know we have curtains, so we can make that little window look bigger then it actually is." He smiled down at her, "It's like your own little apartment! Pick out a paint color dear and we'll make it how you want it to be."

She frowned observing the little room. Her own bathroom was nice, but her ideal room had three windows and two other beds shoved into it.

"Yeah, okay." She shuffled in, dumping her box on the ground to get started.

At the end of the day she sat on her bed and looked around her sparse new room. True to her natural palette she had ultimately chosen a pale, pale green. Nothing too dark because Bubbles said the room was already dark enough.

They had found the old white dresser mostly intact, but the Professor was handy so the drawers no longer squeaked. It was a chalk white and it had ended up matching her bed frame. Luckily, all her clothes fit in it just fine. Two rows had been taken up by uniforms, the other two were pretty bear with civilian clothes. The curtains that the Professor had mentioned were a slight shear gold color that draped to the floor. They centered her bed underneath it.

She had swiped a few pictures of her family and placed an alarm clock on her bedside table. And that was it for right now. She hadn't hung up her posters yet and there were no decorations, aside from a little shelf by the door, but that had always been there.

Her sister's rooms were much more elaborate. She would eventually have to figure something out. She just…didn't have that much stuff.

Her phone buzzed. The group-chat her sisters had set up with their group had been blowing up today. People had been coming in and out of their house to "help", like the girls couldn't lift heavy furniture with one hand or something.

Nonetheless, she picked up the phone to scroll through what she had missed. Nothing was directed at her, so whatever. The last messages were from Boomer asking to copy someone's homework.

Snorting, she tossed the object away and got ready for bed. She ended up laying there for a good four hours, as she tossed and turned, before giving up and making her way to the living room to flip through the tv.

Sitting there collecting her thoughts about the day, she had realized she was just being a baby about this whole room thing. She should have been more enthusiastic. She should have accepted Boomer's pity help and let him move her side table to the dungeon. She should have joined the others for a snack break instead of choosing that time to go get paint. And, god, she should have at least told the Prof thanks for giving up his spare room! Having your own room was suppose to be nice, but it wasn't really the room part she was bummed about.

"Buttercup?" Came a groggy call.

She turned to face the Professor, who stood halfway down the stairs, "Sorry, couldn't sleep."

He frowned, "Is something the matter?"

She offered up a weak smile, "Nah, just…a little quiet down there is all. I'm not that tired anyway."

He nodded turning back up the stairs. It was obvious he was skeptical, but he looked too tired to care, "Don't stay up too late sweetie."

"K."

She ended up falling asleep on the couch for a stunning two hours. It had been the hardest night she had had in a while. She just wanted her sisters. Needed them. What was she without them?

They didn't need her like that though, which was a hard pill to swallow.

* * *

Buttercup was having one of those freaking days. She had woken up late on the couch, pretty sure she had a horrible nightmare, if the puddle of sweat she was sleeping in was anything to go by, forgot her math homework on the counter this morning, where her lunch also was forgotten, had gotten suckered into cleaning chalkboard erasers (again!), which had made her late for lunch, and she was still semi-pissed at her sisters for the whole room thing, which she knew was dumb to be pissed about, but she still was.

Currently, she was resting her head against her locker. She had just gotten done banging her head against the locker door enough times to form a little dent and it had calmed her down just enough that she could have fallen asleep like this, but every time she had closed her eyes today she kept seeing the same terrifying, pitch black eyes that had been burned into her skull.

' _Look at what you've done.'_ They would whisper and she'd snap her eyes wide open because she couldn't bear to look any longer.

At this point, her brain wasn't even making dreams anymore. It was just replaying memories, but she did her best to suppress them.

She'd have to make it to the cafeteria at one point to scarf down food not even suited for prisoners and she would know; the boys had told her. Well, they had told the whole lunch table, but that extended to her, so yeah.

She pushed off her locker with a long, heavy sigh. If she didn't hurry up, Bubbles would text her soon asking where she went and bitch at her about ignoring their "friends" again, or whatever, which Buttercup still thought was bullshit. The only one she considered a friend was Robin and if Robin wanted to talk to her, Robin knew she'd just have to come up and talk to her. It wasn't freaking hard.

Of course, there was the whole "are we cool with each other" issue with the Rowdyruff's, but she put them in a whole other category to worry about. They hadn't seemed too fazed about her missing out on Friday and had offered to help her out yesterday (even if she had declined), so she thought maybe those had been good signs.

Plus, this morning, and she considered this a big win, she had had an actual conversation with Butch. Apparently, Blossom had told the boys that she had been covered in mud a few days ago because she had been throwing rocks, which was the excuse Buttercup had given her, which she had forgotten about till Butch brought it up before the first bell today.

" _Which quarry were you throwing rocks at?"_ He had asked, appearing out of nowhere next to her.

To which she had replied, _"Huh?"_ , watching him shot a glare back towards his brothers for whatever reason, but they had seemed otherwise too distracted to notice. Why would she be throwing rocks? She had had other things to worry about at the moment, like her missing lunch, then figure out what he was saying.

He huffed, turning back to her twirling his ear buds, his attention elsewhere, _"Blossom said, you were throwing rocks around the other day when you dropped off Mojo. Where?"_

" _Where was I throwing rocks?"_ She had asked still confused.

He stopped the twirling and focused his blank glare on her.

" _Yeah…"_ He drawled out, like he was talking to a kid, _"You."_

She had fought a flush of anger, she in no way liked being talked down to, but she bit back her pride because she could admit she was being annoying. She took a moment trying to decipher whatever the hell he was talking about, when Saturday came rushing back.

" _Uh right, yeah the quarry…by the run-down gas station, the one near the nature trails."_ She sputtered out quickly, but he hadn't noticed.

" _That's a good one."_ He murmured, placing his music back into his ears. _"Used that one a lot too, welp,"_ He continued, as he quirked a disinterested eyebrow and gave her a half wave, _"see ya."_

And he had walked away, but not before flipping his brothers off where the favor was quickly returned.

Anyway, she had considered it a success. She couldn't really remember the last time they had talked like that since everything had happened. The conversation itself had done little to better her day though. She didn't think anything would.

* * *

Elmer S'glue was having a terrible, rotten, no good, very bad day.

Normally they were just rotten or terrible, maybe even just no good or very bad, but today it was all of the above. Mike would know, it was all the other boy had been talking about. Not that Mike blamed him or anything, he'd complain too, but being around Elmer was one of those really life draining experiences and he didn't get why he was the one who always got stuck listening.

Didn't help that they both had calc before this and Mike had a naturally quiet, yet comforting disposition, but still anyone else from their friend group could step up every once in a while, instead of throwing it all on him!

Still, Mike waited for his friend, his eyes tracking the hunched over body making its way across the cafeteria with his tray of food in hand. Elmer was a tall, sticky looking boy with incredibly horrible posture, he almost looked cartoonish the way his neck craned outward, his shoulders met his ears, and his stomach protruded.

Mike frowned, almost with pity, as he watched Elmer bring a sleeve across his nose. He could almost hear the wet sound of his wiping and cringed. Still, Mike couldn't hold it against him, he knew Elmer's allergies were acting up, but come on man! He did not make it easy.

The paler boy walked like molasses towards Mike, his eyes dodging left and right, never lingering in one place for long, like he was a scared little animal. He was so, so close to the table Mike was waiting at. The moment he got there, Mike was going to grab all their shit and get the heck out of there to the safety of the AV room (more like a closest, but still way better then eating in the bathroom). They would be there now, if Elmer's lunch hadn't been stolen.

Elmer's creep across the room had almost been successful. In fact, he had been so close to a success that he had almost smiled at Mike revealing just part of his crooked teeth. There was so much relief in his face, that even Mike couldn't help smiling back. His encouraging smile though disappeared, as he rushed to spit out a warning.

He couldn't even get the words out of his throat before Elmer went flying forward to the ground. In their excitement, they had made a crucial rookie mistake. Elmer had walked past the very jock infested, very better-then-you-in-everyway, popular kids table. Which as of late, hadn't been a large cause of distress because of some very crucial members, but they were at the moment preoccupied. Something Elmer had not accounted for because he had been too busy wiping his snot on his shirt. So, to Mike's horror, he watched Mitch Mitchelson's leg shoot out into the walking path and Elmer went flying.

Mike lifted a useless arm into the air, as if he was going to reach out and grab the boy mid-fall, but he was too far away. Instead, all he could do was watch Elmer's slightly amusing, but obviously embarrassing fall.

At first, the other boy just stumbled around a bit, trying to balance his teetering tray as it tilted dangerously from side to side. It almost worked, if Elmer's footing hadn't been horrible and didn't land in some cafeteria goop on the floor causing him to slide haphazardly around and finally, lurched forwarded.

Most of the onlookers were either laughing or politely muttering off their second-hand embarrassment, but the moment Elmer had lurched forward everyone had gone dead silent. Elmer's eyes were screwed tight, so he had no idea what was in store for him as him and his tray of food came crashing onto an unsuspecting stranger, who caught the boy before he hit the ground.

The sound Elmer's tray made as it clattered to the ground was deafening as he was righted up into a safe standing position.

Mike wanted to cover his eyes. If Elmer's social standing had been low before, falling food first into Buttercup Utonium had probably sent it right to rock bottom.

* * *

Buttercup couldn't help cringing. This was just fantastic! On top of everything else today, the cosmos had seriously decided this needed to happen? Now she had to suffer with cafeteria "food" down the front of her uniform, which admittedly wasn't the worst thing that had stained this uniform, but it was pretty damn close. _Gross._

She tried wiping some of it off with disgust, but it was a lost cause. She'd just get a change from her locker later.

She looked up from her uniform at the shaking boy in front of her, "You good?"

"U-uh, uh I am so, so sorry. I- uh can—" She cut the trembling boy off.

"It's good Elmer." She said cursing her bad luck.

She was pretty sure Elmer still secretly hated her about that whole glue incident back in preschool. They didn't talk often, but she tried to be nice when she could to prove she wasn't a bitch or something.

"What happened?" She asked, bending down to pick up his tray.

He froze taking a moment to sneak a peek behind him. She followed his line of vision, stopping finally on Mitch and his side of the shared table, who's snickering came to an abrupt end.

Looking the table over, she made eye contact with Blossom, who looked at her with questions written all over her face. Buttercup shrugged in response like she didn't know what had happened, but she had a pretty good idea anyway.

Buttercup couldn't say she was surprised, Mitch had been a jerk since the girls had been created. Frankly, she didn't even understand why they bothered sitting with him. If he wasn't a fragile little normal human she'd probably pound on him more.

"I tripped." Elmer said quickly, grabbing back her attention.

She glanced back at him, "You tripped?"

He was looking at his cottage cheese covered shoes, as he hit them on the ground to shake some of it off and shook his head, "Uh, yeah."

"Well, okay klutz." She joked, letting him have this one and threw his tray on top of one of waste baskets, "Come on." She jerked her head to the food line and walked past him.

"H-huh?"

She rolled her eyes. What was with this guy, so timid pfft.

"You are getting more food, right?"

"Well, uh. Yeah, but I don't have anymore, ya know, lunch money." His eyes were shifting around and she took it as a cue to look around as well. She couldn't pick up on what the big deal was, everyone was acting pretty normal. Maybe a little quiet, but that happened after a bit of excitement.

"No biggie," She replied, "I've got extra in my account. I forgot my lunch so Pro-my dad, like put some in it. I doubt he'd mind, considering how much he hates…" She didn't want to say bullying, because Elmer didn't want to say that, so she went with the next best thing she could think of, "kids going hungry. Lunch is important for the mind or some jazz like that." She shrugged and continued to make her way towards the line.

Eventually, Elmer snapped out of whatever daze he had been in and caught up.

They sort of just stared at each other as the line inched along, until Buttercup realized she should probably make conversation, so she channeled her best Bubbles and coughed a bit to clear her throat.

"So," She bobbed her head a bit, "how's the rest of your day been?"

He sucked his teeth in thought, "Ah, good. You?"

Shrugging, she said, "Can't complain."

She resisted patting herself on the back, but she seriously deserved an award for freaking nailing this conversation.

It continued like that for a while, like he'd mention how the line was a bit slow and she'd agree and then she'd mention the subpar choices and he'd agree. It was the best conversation she had with someone her age without the help of her sisters in a very, very long time.

Maybe she had been wrong about her relationship with Elmer. They were talking like old friends!

Not bad for a shitty Monday.

After purchasing their food, they again walked together towards the back of the cafeteria. Close to her table, she opened her mouth, very ready for him to give her the easy agreement she had grown accustomed to, "Wanna sit with us?"

He paused walking and she stopped with him, again she looked around. Nothing out of the ordinary presented itself, so she turned to look at him.

He was carefully, out of the corner of his eye, observing the table she usually sat at with her sisters. It was one of the longer tables in the cafeteria, but it was still considerably crowded for whatever reason. So much so, that they had a spill over table that was also generally crowded. Her spot next to Blossom called to her, not that she liked the spot. It was smack dab in the middle of everything and much too crowded for her liking.

"Sooo?" She prodded.

He snapped his head towards her, "Uh, well."

"If its Mitch, I won't let him bug you. A whole lot of talk, not a lot of bite." She scoffed at what a prick that guy could be.

"No!" Elmer protested, then a little more quietly, shrinking in on himself, "It's not M-mitch. I have a friend…" He trailed off.

"Oh." She was also quiet. "Yeah, your friend." Other people had those. Even Elmer.

"Well…" He continued awkwardly, as he decided what to say next, "Thanks so much for the food, seriously." He offered her a weak smile, as he turned to walk another way.

"Like I said, no biggie." She sighed and looked at her tray full of gross. She really didn't want sit at the table, she didn't feel like faking it today and she wasn't really over the whole Friday thing either…and the talk about her being standoffish.

Why'd she have to put up with that sort of crud?

She was staring hard at the mashed potatoes that were slapped onto her plate, when she came to the brilliant realization that she didn't have to put up with that. That those weren't _her_ people, so why _did_ she have to sit with them?

She looked up quickly watching Elmer's retreating back and could very clearly remember the Professor telling her that she didn't have to have the same friends as her sisters. It was like her brain was imploding. She could make her own friends!

And Buttercup was one hundred percent confident that the awkward, sweaty boy she had just bought lunch for was just the place to start. Thank the cosmos!

* * *

Mike couldn't really wrap around what he had just witnessed but thank god he did because no one would believe Elmer if he hadn't been there to back it up. The cafeteria had gone back to its normal buzz when Buttercup and Elmer had finally separated, but this was going to be the talk of the school for the rest of the day.

Elmer S'Glue had talked to Buttercup Utonium of the freaking Powerpuff Girls. Buttercup! The Buttercup! The most elusive, mysterious, and toughest girl of the trio. Maybe even the coolest? Like all three of them were like cool, but Bubbles was obviously the cutest, sweetest one and Blossom was the smart leader one, so to complete the trifecta Buttercup was like _the_ Ms. Cool.

Mike couldn't pick up his jaw from the ground. She had actually bothered to make sure Elmer, _Elmer_ , was okay? Like of course, the girls were all really super nice, but they were at the tippitty top of the social ladder and Elmer, along with Mike and the others, were just lucky to see a glimpse of their hair through the hordes of people they were surrounded by at any given time. Mike couldn't even claim they went to the same high-school with a clear conscious because of the obvious social differences.

He hadn't talked to Buttercup since probably first grade, when she had saved him from some mutated science experiment gone wrong. She didn't just associate with anyone! Like at most, she talked to her sisters and Robin (who he was _not_ going to think about right now), and the JoJo brothers.

Though, he still swore, even if Jeff and Joey didn't believe him, that he had watched Buttercup disregard Boomer JoJo in the hallway one day, which had been the biggest surprise of his lifetime, even if it had been unintentional mistake.

"Elmer!" He exclaimed, once the other boy got close enough.

"Huh?" Elmer asked in a very understandable daze.

"Dude. That was amazing!" He laughed in disbelief, as he started to pack the food he had been munching on during his wait away.

"Y-yeah." The sticky boy agreed, then with tilt of his head added, "What exactly just happened? Is this a dream?"

"Maybe!" Mike laughed, and was about to recount his version of events, when a very distinct feminine voice cut through the air behind Emer.

"Hey Elmer, what if I sat with you? To catch up, ya know? Would your friend mind?" Wide-eyed Elmer turned towards the voice. The taller boy was blocking Mike's view, but he knew exactly who was talking.

The whole cafeteria did.

If he had thought the room had gone quiet before, it was like death now. The only sound that was disrupting the quiet was the smoke induced coughing fit the lunch lady was having at the moment, besides that even the janitor was quiet.

No one said anything and Elmer probably looked like he had just shit his pants, so Mike quickly swallowed the chunk of sandwich he had been chewing and peaked his head around his friend, "I wouldn't mind."

She looked at him a little surprised, he had been accused of being sneaky before, but it quickly disappeared. After a quick assessment on her part, she smiled a bit, "Oh, hey Mike. Didn't see ya there. How've you been?"

Now it was his turn to shit his pants. Taking his answer as an invitation, she settled into the open table at the end of the bench, her back facing the majority of the cafeteria. He sat back down in his spot, any thoughts of the AV room dissipating.

Not one to lie, Mike answered truthfully, "Oh you know, a bit of a long day." He rubbed the back of his neck, "Got a bad grade in bio." Which was probably because he had stared at the back of Robin's perfect head the whole time, instead of doing the assignment… _again_. "It's going to be one of those weeks, ya know."

He looked at Elmer and then overexuberantly looked at the seat next to Buttercup, hoping he'd get the hint to sit down, which thankfully he did. Instead of adding to the conversation, he began scooping food into his mouth, which Mike had always thought was gross, but especially did now with Buttercup right there, though it seemed like she didn't notice. She was poking at her own food with a twisted look on her face.

"You can say that again." She huffed in agreement, "I forgot my freaking lunch at home. I haven't bought lunch since fifth grade. Do you remember the whole surprise-meat lunch monster? Because that ruined it for me."

He wrinkled his nose and actually laughed at the memory, "Yeah I actually do. It smelt like rancid cat food for a whole month before it aired out. What ever happened to the lunch lady?"

She sipped on her milk in thought, "I think she went to a state institution. At least, that was the last we heard and that was like seventh grade. Good riddance. That was straight poison."

There was a pause in the conversation that made Mike's heart beat a little too fast. He wasn't as shy as he was as a little guy anymore, but meeting new people, if Buttercup could be considered new, was always a bit hard for him.

He looked up to say something, anything, else, when something caught the corner of his eye. A majority of the cafeteria were still watching them, every so often a few people from every table would turn to look, trying to be at least a little discreet. It was the members of her table that were not. The other two Powerpuff Girls look confused, talking to themselves and then muttering things to the others, he skipped over Robin for personal reasons (even though he really didn't want to) and looked at douche-bag Mitch and his douche-bag friends openly gapping. For a moment he felt pretty good that him and Elmer, the lowly dorks, had Buttercups attention all to themselves. Even two of the illustrious JoJo brothers (can they still be called Rowdyruff Boys?) were staring and whispering things.

Butch JoJo was the only one who didn't look horribly disturbed, as he had taken the opportunity to steal the remaining fries off his brothers' tray. Bringing his attention back to Buttercup, who had just asked a question, missed the quick glance Butch gave him a second later.

"Sorry, what?"

"I said, I like your shirt. Uh, you watch the movies?" Buttercup asked gesturing to his shirt. It was a graphic tee sporting Old MacDonald's Angry Spore.

He scoffed in return, "Oh please Buttercup. Have I seen the movies? I can quote them in my sleep. Do you like Spore?"

She smiled, "He's my favorite. Are you like one of those fake fans who only watch the movies?"

He choked on his sandwich. Talk about role reversal, isn't he, the nerdy geek, suppose to accuse the pretty girl of being a fake fan?

"Harsh. I'll have you know I own like ever volume of the comic." He defended proudly, then flushed at how nerdy that had sounded.

"Hey." She said with a snort putting her hands up in mock surrender, "I'm only making sure. What's your favorite arc?" She asked innocently enough, but he knew a comic book challenge when he heard one.

Who would have though Buttercup was into superhero comics? Especially considering she herself was one. Still, the following conversation was so easy that he almost forgot that he had been debating fundamental Spore plot points with a Powerpuff Girl. _Almost._ Until the lunch bell rang, snapping him back into the reality of things. The excitement of the 30-minute lunch period, he figured, would have his head spinning for the rest of the day. Thank goodness Elmer was there. No one was going to believe this.

The three-person group followed the body of traffic into the overcrowded hallway that would usually swallow them up.

Today though, him and Elmer were following Buttercup, whose mere presence parted the metaphorical red-sea of students that usually blocked the two boys path. Today, instead of running them over, the other students gave them so much space that if Mike could do a cartwheel, he totally would without hitting anything. It was amazing. A once in a life time event.

No one's hit his books out of his hand, shoved Elmer into the lockers, elbowed or pushed them, tripped them, stepped on them, or stole their book bags. They were just walking like normal and Mike never wanted it to end.

All thanks to Buttercup.

She stopped in the middle of the hallway (the MIDDLE of the hallway without any backlash) and turned to look at them, "My class is this way." She said pointing to the right, "Where are you guys going?"

"Straight." Mike answered with a slump. So long easy living.

"S-same." Elmer frowned. He had gym next hour with Mitch, may god rest his soul.

"Bummer." She shrugged, "See you guys tomorrow?"

"Sure." Mike nodded, though he figured she was only saying it to be polite.

Elmer also nodded with a little more vigor.

She smiled a little wider than he'd ever seen before, "Cool!" Then she playfully jabbed at Elmer's arm, who flinched a bit out of reflex, but he hid it well, "Don't trip anymore, okay clumsy!" And with that she turned away and the crowd swallowed them up once more.

* * *

Mike knew exactly why he was dragging Elmer and himself this way instead of towards the AV room. He just needed to confirm he was right, which meant that yesterday's lunch with Buttercup was a one-time thing. That there was no way that when she had said 'see you guys tomorrow', she didn't mean tomorrow at lunch, but tomorrow as in 'see you around tomorrow', because if he was being honest with himself this specific distinction had kept him up all night.

And just in case he was wrong, which he probably was not, there's no way he'd ever live down the very idea of keeping a Powerpuff Girl waiting. No way! So, even though they have both brought their lunches, instead of going straight to the AV room they're heading towards the dreaded cafeteria.

Elmer didn't put up much of a fight. His day had been significantly better then yesterday thanks to Buttercup. It was like people just decided to leave them alone for a bit, like her fame had momentarily rubbed off on them. Even their group of friends knew what had happened yesterday at lunch before they had even got the chance to tell them.

The only concerning thing that did happen happened to Elmer was apparently in gym. Mitch had cornered him and said some threatening things, but Elmer was too high on cloud nine to go into much detail, aside from a few quips about "a pity lunch with Buttercup" and "don't even think about bugging her anymore". Which were all easy for everyone else to brush off, but not so much for Mike. Pity lunch or not he didn't want any more trouble falling on his friends.

"No way." Elmer muttered in disbelief. Sitting at the table they had occupied yesterday was Buttercup. She looked up when they approached and waved them over.

"Hey." She smiled, flipping a bit of perfectly wavy, but slightly messy hair behind her ear, though it fell back to its original position right away. She had one of those lob cuts, so it was longer in the front falling to about her shoulders and it shortened in the back, which was information he only knew because his mom was a hairdresser at one point, who still insisted on cutting his hair for him to this day.

" _ooOh, Mikey-boo! My handsome little man! All them girls are gonna eat you up, but your mommy's boy first!"_ His mother's words echoed through his head and he cringed trying his hardest to shake the voice and the bowl-cut memory away.

Ignoring his digressing mind, it wasn't a bad haircut for her, but it had always been short from what he could remember, so he didn't know any different.

"Brought your lunch too, huh?" She asked, as he sat down in front of her once more, as if it was an automatic normal situation to be in with her. Once again, they were the cafeterias favorite meal time show.

Elmer answered this time after he had settled into the seat next to her, "Uh, yeah. Shou-Uh, do you want me to pay you back?"

Mike could only sit and blink. Maybe he was dreaming. Not to quote Highschool Musical or anything, because that would mean he would have to admit that he had actually watched that movie (and the second one too, but that was a moment of weakness and he had been sick), but this was not sticking to the status quo.

Buttercup put a hand on Elmer's arm to stop him from reaching into his pocket, which made Elmer freeze immediately and Mike couldn't help but notice the beginnings of a blush, "Nah, I said don't worry about it, didn't I?" She assured him giving off an air of easy and contagious confidence.

"Okay." The other boy stammered off quickly and turned to his meal.

After Mike came-to, their chit-chat was as easy as yesterday. They talked about comic book hero's and then Buttercup told them some stuff about the real hero's though, she didn't linger long on the subject. Then, naturally, their conversation progressed to school, where mostly they talked about classes all while Mike was trying and failing to push down his rising anxiety.

"You do anything after school?" She asked him and he shrugged.

"Yeah. Sometimes I head to the art club, but that's every once in a while. I'm not very good." He looked away modestly, and then nodded towards Elmer, "We usually hang out with our friends."

She looked away at that moment to dig around in her salad and took a deep breath before continuing, "Can I see some of your stuff? Or are you one of those people who don't like to show off?" She asked seriously, "Bubbles used to show us all her stuff, now, not so much. Something about a "blue" period."

She chomped down onto her fork and he couldn't help but wonder if he had said something wrong.

He looked at her for a bit longer contemplating her question, no one had actually ever asked him that before, "I'll, uh, think about it."

"It's up to you man." She shrugged, biting into her pear, "Artists, you know?"

He laughed a bit, but honestly it was a surprised Bubbles didn't show off her work more often. They're both in art club, not that they really talked, but from the looks of her stuff it was all pretty good. More serious and realistic, then the cartoon stuff he drew.

Speaking of her sister, his eyes automatically flipped over to Buttercup's regular table and something like guilt settled into his stomach. Her spot had been taken over by Brick, but he had only moved over when they had realized she wasn't moving back over to them.

At the particular moment he was observing them, Butch and Robin stop the conversation they were having to look over at him—Butch first, Robin second to see what had distracted the taller boy. Mike felt his cheeks warm at being caught staring and quickly turned away.

He didn't know exactly what they were saying, but he knew what they were thinking. He was thinking it too. This wasn't normal. She wasn't supposed to sit with them. She wasn't even supposed to look at Mike and Elmer! And the unnecessary attention it was bringing towards the two boys were sort of wearing him out. He was good at invisible, not whatever this was.

"Yo, Earth to Mike? You there, dude?" Buttercup asked waving a hand in front of his face, "What's up Spacey?"

"Huh, oh sorry." He apologized.

"It's cool, so like with what I was saying, Bubbles made like a ton of cookies the other night an—"

"Hey Buttercup, sorry," He interrupted, "um listen. Ya know, you don't have to sit with us."

Her eyebrows screwed together in confusion, "Whatcha' mean?"

Elmer shifted, trying to sink in on himself. He would offer Mike zero help.

"Well, like…" He paused trying to think up the words to explain what he meant, "Like, we know we're not really the coolest guys around and we really appreciate what you did for Elmer yesterday," Elmer nodded in agreement, "but you don't have to sit with us to like make up for anything? I don't know." He trailed off.

Her eyebrows rose and her mouth tightened, "I'm not pity sitting with you Mike."

Mike couldn't help but get defensive, as he snapped back, "Well, do your "friends" know that? Tell her what they said yesterday Elmer."

The hunched boy shrugged, embarrassed.

She scoffed, "Listen, if Mitch and those other guys give you shit I'll set 'em straight."

"You don't get it Buttercup. I don't blame you, but it's not just them. Look around." He hissed, finally noticing how extensive the number of eyes on them were, "People talk Buttercup and they think this is pity."

Her eyes clouded, but she did take the time to glance around. Finally, she let out a sigh, dropping the container of whatever back on the table. She opened her mouth a few times, then mostly muttering to herself said, "Of course." Then more to them, a little gruffly stated, "Who cares what they think?"

He opened his mouth to respond, but she held up a hand to stop him. She looked at him darkly, obviously trying to end this conversation, "Listen Mike, people have always…are always going to talk about me. I can't please everyone, so ya know what? Who. Cares."

Mike couldn't help but think this was probably a big moment for her, but he wasn't ready to jump on that bandwagon yet, "Oh yeah? What about your sisters? They've been staring and whispering this whole time?"

Her face cleared and she let out a quick laugh, "My sisters? Jeez Mike, that'd be pretty stupid don't you think? I have super hearing." She said matter-of-factly, pointing to her ears, "I think I'd know if my sisters were talking smack. That's also why you don't have to worry about all the other guys, if they say shit I'll know especially since I'm listening for it now. They won't get away with tripping anyone again."

"Yeah, well if they aren't talking about us then why are they looking over?" He said, knowing he was losing the footing of his argument.

"I don't know it's probably coincidence." She shrugged, rolling her eyes "Here if you don't believe me…" She trailed off for a moment, brushing her hair away from her ear, "They're talking about…a boy. Well, Bubbles is. They're being vague, so I don't know who, so he must be close. Probably a crush..." She paused listening a little more, "He hasn't paid any attention to her and she wore the dress that she thought he liked and everything." She mocked whined.

"Whoa." Elmer said impressed, referring to the super hearing, but Buttercup didn't pick up on that.

"Eh, nothing new. She gets crushes allll the time. I think she had one on you when we were younger Mike." She said nonchalantly with a shrug, but Mike's cheeks pooled with color.

"O-oh."

There was a loud audible gasp from the other side of the room.

"Yea?" Buttercup answered a questioned no one asked, and then looked back at the confused boys, "Oh, sorry." She said waving them off, "She heard me."

She rolled her eyes and turned a bit to look back at her sister, "Well, if you weren't so loud then I wouldn't listen." Then turning back to the boys, and successfully dodging the pretzel sticks that had been shot her way lightning fast, she said "See. They aren't even concerned about you guys! So, can we move on?"

Mike and Elmer shared a look and shrugged, "Yeah okay." They both agreed. Mike though was still uneasy, but he figured Buttercup was right more or less. It made sense to just ignore everyone and live the way you wanted to, but then again, she hadn't been picked on most of her life.

Elmer snuck a peek behind him, "She looks mad."

Buttercup pursed her lips and fixed her face into a pointed look, "She's just a drama queen. Ignore it." There was a slight pause as Buttercup snatched more snack food out of the air and turned around back towards her sister smirking. Bubbles, in return, stuck out her tongue.

"Going back to what I was saying earlier," Buttercup continued, "Bubbles made these cookies, they're pumpkin spice, out of season yeah, but she found a packet and had the time on her hands, so like want one?" She presented the container to the boys, who both smiled their thanks and greedily grabbed at the baked goods.

"Thanks." Mike said, "And sorry." He added, "For freaking out."

She shrugged, "It's all good."

They sat their quietly for an awkward few moments and Mike couldn't help but feel like that was his fault, so once again he wracked his mind for anything to say.

Finally, he just decided to blurt about some news topic his mom had gone on about, "Did you see the video about the lady yelling at the water the other day? It has like almost one hundred thousand views."

Buttercup tilted her head in thought for a moment and clicked her tongue a few times (like she hadn't watched that video of herself forty-two consecutive times, but Mike wouldn't know that) "Ya know what, I haven't."

"Seriously? It's pretty big. It was on the news." He asked in disbelief.

"Nah, anyway, that assembly coming up, sort of dumb right?"

The bell signaling the end of lunch came about ten minutes later. They stood up collecting their things and much like yesterday a swarm of people gave them all the space they wanted. That was when Mike realized they had never made it to the AV room, much to Mike's disappointment. He needed to talk to Joey and Mary about their history project.

Then he thought that Jeff would really like Buttercup and that's when he mentioned it to her.

"Hey, Buttercup?" He asked grabbing her attention, "So, um usually me and Elmer, we don't eat in the lunch room."

"Oh?" She asked, "Where then?"

"Well, actually a group of us eat in the old AV room, it usually left unlocked and no one seems to care, so that's where we've set up shop. If you want to eat lunch with us again tomorrow and you really don't mind, then you can come with us." The invitation was almost like a challenge.

She stopped again in the middle of the hallway before her turn and genuinely smiled at him, "Yeah sounds cool, I'll see ya then."

As she walked away, Elmer, in a stroke of confidence, called after her, "Bring more cookies!"

She blinked for a moment and then shrugged, "Yeah sure, I'll try." And then just like that she was swallowed by the crowd.

Mike turned towards the other boy about to congratulate him on the brilliant cookie idea, but Elmer wasn't even looking at him. He wasn't even looking towards the direction Buttercup went off towards. He was staring smugly behind them at a group of boys much, much tougher then him.

"Come on Elmer, let's go." Mike prodded shoving him with his shoulder.

Elmer snorted, sucking up snot, "They can't even touch us anymore." He quietly exclaimed more to himself, then to Mike, "Not Mitch, not the twins, not even the JoJo's."

"Have they even messed with you before?" Mike questioned. The three guys had only started school here last month and they had always been too busy to spare most people a glance.

"Not directly, but they're no good. I bet BC would agree."

"BC?"

"Buttercup. It's what other people call her."

"Yeah." Mike drawled out, "But, like her friends?"

Something flashed in Elmer's eyes, "We are her friends, not like those assholes."

Mike shrugged because they had already made it to his class and honestly, it was just a nickname, right?

* * *

Buttercup was slumped over her dinner plate, stabbing at her vegetables, when she suddenly realized that she had forgotten to make more cookies after school. She straightened up in her chair with a sudden urgency that caused her to hit her knee against the table.

She held in the curse that danced at the tip of her tongue to save herself another lecture. The earful she received earlier from Bubbles was enough to last till, eh, probably Thursday. Maybe.

Instead of cursing, she muttered off a quick apology, when she realized the rest of her family was staring. Well, Professor and Blossom were. Bubbles was actually giving her a pretty good death glare. With a shrug Blossom went back to talking about her day.

For a good portion of the dinner, like every dinner, she had been listening to the Professors day, which was good, but his doohickey wasn't working with his whatchamacallit or something. Then Bubbles, where she mentioned the lunch fiasco to the Professor (where Buttercup then had to receive another little lecture) and an upcoming art auction to raise money for the art institutes' reconstruction fund. Buttercup did note the boy she was whispering about at lunch was not mentioned, which was highly unusual, but she brushed it off.

And now, she was listening (more like zoning out) to Blossom, who was delivering a whole book of analysis concerning her conversation with the principal, parent committee, and parts of the student body about the homecoming theme.

"…and honestly, I think I really convinced them that the "Roaring Twenties" is overdone, tacky, and underplays the historical intricacies concerning the women's rights movement, racial segregation, and international affairs, but the vote is next week, so who knows what could happen."

"I'm glad your sticking up for what you believe in dear." Came her father's nonplussed reply.

"Thanks Professor!" Blossom chirped, "I really do think it'll work out, but I am prepared to filibuster if things go south."

"Well, I hope that works out sweetie."

"Oh, it will." Her sister nodded confidently, taking another bite of pasta. Bubbles opened her mouth to speak, but before the question came tumbling out, Blossom swallowed and continued, "And no Bubbles, I can't tell you what the theme is probably going to be in advance, I just really had to get that off my chest."

The other girl pouted. Buttercup on the other hand could care less about a school dance.

She was twirling the pasta around and around, thinking about cookies, when she realized it was her turn. She picked up her head from her hand and sat in thought, did something worth mentioning happen today.

"Well, Buttercup? How was your day?" The Professor smiled waiting.

She shrugged. Nope, nothing interesting was coming to mind, "Nothin' much."

"Oh really? It sounds like you sat with some new people at lunch though? A boy from Bubbles art club, correct?"

"And Elmer S'glue!" Bubbles interjected, "Not just Mike! Two people know! I was in elementary school!"

Buttercup rolled her eyes, crossing her arms, "Oh please Bubbles, you couldn't drop the Ace thing till recently. You told everyone!" She hadn't thrown his name out in a while and it only made her more ticked off.

"This is different!" Bubbles scoffed.

"Why? 'Cause it's about you now?" Buttercup hissed back.

"No!"

"Girls." Their father reprimanded and they both muttered apologies, "Now Buttercup, please continue."

She sighed, "Yeah Elmer and Mike, I sat with them yesterday too. I guess we're friends now."

"Friends? It's only been two lunches." Blossom pointed out.

"Yeah, so?" Buttercup brilliantly countered, if she did say so herself.

Blossom, who was still a bit sour about the Friday thing, scoffed, "So, you see them for a total of an hour and they're your "friends", but the people you see all the time aren't?"

"I guess that must be pretty telling then, huh Blossom?" Buttercup bit back and Blossom turned her head away with a hmph.

The Professor sighed, but tried his best to continue the conversation, "I, for one, am very glad Buttercup has found some people she enjoys spending time with. And what did you talk about? At lunch."

"I dunno, stuff. Say Prof, do we have anymore cookie stuff?"

"You're going to bake more cookies!" Bubbles immediately cheered, even Blossom had turned back towards her with renewed interest.

"Thinkin' about it. I think just regular chocolate chip, we're out of pumpkin thanks to someone." She glanced at Bubbles, notorious for her sweet tooth, whose smile grew wider. That's what happens when you're made out of sugar.

"Oh, I couldn't help it! They were so good; the icing was great! You have to make more!" She pleaded, and Buttercup wanted to ask if this meant she wasn't mad anymore but decided not to press her luck.

"I think we have a few things!" The Professor nodded, much to Buttercups relief.

* * *

She was meticulously placing each perfectly round, perfectly crunchy on the outside, gooey on the inside, perfectly chocolate chip chunky cookie in the container for tomorrow when the boys invaded the kitchen.

"Cookies! You're making cookies _again_! Hell yeah!" Boomer…well, boomed out rushing into the kitchen.

Immediately she swiped the tray of cooling cookies away from Boomer's hand with a panic. They weren't as bad as Bubbles, but the three of them together always demolished her cookie stocks with ease. She hadn't even realized they had gotten into the house. For whatever reason the Professor was always trying to figure out new ways to lock them out (though he usually phrased it differently), but they had this funny knack for breaking and entering that they never really shook off.

"No!" She scolded, as she held the cookies possessively close.

Bubbles, the mope, who sat dejectedly on the counter, huffed, "Don't take it personally, she won't let anyone touch them!" Then, for good measure, showed off her stinging red hand, "She keeps hitting me!"

Ignoring Bubbles, Buttercup once again made a dash for the unguarded container Brick's grabby hands were sneaking towards.

"You especially cannot have these. They're perfect!"

"Perfect?" Boomer moaned forlornly.

Brick tsked, "We not good enough for perfect Buttercup?"

She paused recognizing the social trap she had just landed in with the three boys. She couldn't hit them like Bubbles; that'd probably cross some sort of line. So luckily Blossom, her more patient, kind, loving, beautiful sister spoke for her instead.

"She's saving the "perfect" ones for her friends. The ones she's talked to for like an hour tops, so take that however you want."

Okay scratch that pervious train of thought and replace it with: So unluckily Blossom, her more cruel, vindictive, and grudge keeping sister spoke for her instead. She had been wondering when they'd circle back to _that_ dinner conversation.

Buttercup kept her mouth screwed shut. She really didn't like making big scenes in front of the boys because it usually ended in her looking bad.

"Friends?" Boomer questioned, he sounded almost dejected and the implications tugged at her guilty stomach. She opened her mouth to counter when he continued, "You mean Pasty and Mousey?"

And the apology died on her tongue, instead she snapped, "I think you meant to call them Elmer and Mike."

Butch, who had decided to skip the cookie dough and just take a bag of chocolate chips instead, snorted from the table.

Boomer's eyes widened, "But that's what Mitch said everyone called them, so I thought—"

"And when did we start listening to him again?" She interrupted bitterly, as she slammed her tray down. She'd regret snapping at him later, but at the moment she had to much pent up energy to stop.

Blossom rolled her eyes, "Obviously, Boomer wouldn't know any better. It's not like we actively hang out with those two."

She glared at Blossom, "How? How would they not know better? Why would anyone name their kids Pasty and Mousey?"

"Why would anyone name their kid Bubbles." Butch countered with a sneer defending his brother.

"Oh!" Bubbles clapped trying to defuse the situation, "I know the answer to that one!"

"Everyone knows the answer to that one!" Buttercup snarled and then mocked, crossing her eyes "Cause I'm so cute and bubbly."

Meekly Bubbles pouted, "It's true though."

"Ugh." Buttercup groaned, "Why does it even matter?" She turned to Blossom, "I can make cookies for whoever the hell I like, okay? Just because you hang out with some class-A douche bags doesn't mean I have to, so could you, oh I don't know…piss off?" She ended that sentence trying to sound as condescending as possible before she stomped out of the room satisfied she had stunned her sisters silent.

"And don't touch those cookies!" She yelled from the lab door before slamming it shut.

That must have jolted Blossom out of her trance because she yelled back a moment later, "They were your friends first! Remember!"

Buttercup, who was steaming, slammed the door back open, "I! Was! Six!" And then, banged the door closed so forcibly she heard glass shatter somewhere in the house. Good freakin' riddance!

So much for not making a scene, but she'd be embarrassed about it later after she had spent some time in the training room cooling off.

"Dear?" The Professor asked emerging for the depths of the lab with concern written on his face, "What's going on?"

She grunted stomping past him, "Leave me 'lone."

And for once he did. Everyone did. No one bugged her for the rest of the night. Maybe this room downstairs wasn't so bad after all.

* * *

A/N: If you haven't noticed there will be pairings in this story, but I don't think it will be overwhelming, till maybe later idk. I am the biggest sucker for the Mike/Robin pairing. I've read that in a few fics and every time I'm like wow that's some good shit right there. Also, I'm sorry for the Mitch bashing, if you could even call it that, it's a personal preference. I didn't like him when I was little, I still don't like him today and the six-year-old in me will not be persuaded!


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Once again thank you all so much for your reviews, they seriously mean a lot and they've all be so encouraging! I would have stopped writing by now if it weren't for the kind words! Also, I'm really new to all of this so I don't know if I'm supposed to reply to them or not, but I did answer a question I received at the end of this chapter. Anyway, more notes at the end!

(I don't own the ppgs)

* * *

Buttercup's "sisters suck" mentality came to a crashing halt when the lunch bells rang the next day. She practically had to drag her feet to her locker to get her lunch, as she tried to determine the amount of times she had successfully met new people without her sisters. She apparently came off as "intimidating" and "scary", which sucked because she tried her best to look friendly and inviting. That was what a Powerpuff was supposed to do, but that never seemed to work out for her.

She huffed, as alarms continued to ring in her head.

 _Who was the best at making friends?_ A part of her mind would ask.

 _Bubbles._ The quiet part of her mind that had been a little excited about lunch earlier today would mutter back.

 _And who comes up with interesting and eloquent conversations?_

 _Blossom._

 _And who makes everyone feel included and special?_

 _Bubbles._

 _And who makes sure no one feels belittled or inferior?_

 _Blossom._

 _And finally, who screws up basic English and has a resting bitch face?_ She asked herself.

… _me._ She answered with a groan.

 _You._ Brain-Buttercup confirmed and she kicked her locker shut.

For a moment she teetered around the lockers and waited for the off chance that one of her sisters would break from their normal paths to stop by, though she was already fully aware that neither of them would because it didn't line up with their class schedules. It still would have maybe been nice to see one of them, so she could leech off of their social intelligence. On the other hand, though, neither of them would have been happy to see her, so she really couldn't figure out if she was lucky or not that they weren't going to show.

' _Or not_.' A little voice in her head confirmed, and it continued, ' _What am I doing? I can't do this!'_

She tried to squash her doubt down. She could make friends without her sisters. It was easy, she had already sort of maybe done it with Mike and Elmer. Sure, maybe Blossom was right. Maybe an hour of talking wasn't enough to define a friendship, but Buttercup figured it was a good start. She'd just do what she did with them with their other friends!

Her face fell; a free lunch and cookies couldn't bribe everyone.

Right now, more than anything, her seat at the crowded lunch room table next to Blossom seemed like paradise. What the heck did she think she was doing walking into a social situation without her two social crutches! If anything, she'd just go to the cafeteria with her tail between her legs and if she bumped into Mike later today she'd just explain she had forgotten. No harm done.

"Oh Buttercup! I was, uh looking for you!" Came a sudden voice and it took all her strength not to jump out of her own skin.

Whirling around to face the voice, she realized that Mike had seemingly materialized out of thin air next to the water fountains she was passing. Realizing he had her attention he wiped his mouth and waved.

"Jeez, Mike," She said unclenching her fists, "Warn a girl next time. I was about to knock you into next year!"

He smiled sheepishly and rubbed at his neck, "Sorry, I didn't mean to sneak up on you."

"It's cool," She shrugged, but the tension in her shoulders didn't drop. Maybe he had forgotten about lunch?

Playing dumb she asked, "What's up?"

His smile dropped a bit and he broke eye contact with a shrug, "Uh, well I sort of figured that you wouldn't know where the old AV room was at if you wanted to come eat with us, so I thought I'd stop by the cafeteria to find you…if you still wanted to or something."

Mentally, she paused. He was sort of giving her an out where she could tell him not today and forget the whole thing, but, well, that was nice of him to circle back for her. That was the kind of thing Bubbles would do for someone.

Her mental wheels grinded to a halt and put her anxiety on pause. What was she even worried about anyway? It wasn't like she was some chicken. They were just people and, _duh,_ she was a Powerpuff Girl! She had fought the embodiment of evil and won! She could make _friends_.

Unconsciously she relaxed her shoulders and smiled, "Ya know, you're right. I don't know where the AV room is."

This was just social interaction, and if they were anything like Mike, how hard could it be?

* * *

Mike held the door open with a warm, inviting smile and then looked at people already situated in the room.

"Well, this is it. Not very big or anything, but we like it," he explained. "Hey guys, I found her! Buttercup this is everyone. Everyone this is Buttercup, obviously," He announced, as they shuffled in together.

The room wasn't huge, but it was big enough to fit one sizeable table that people could eat at, two old computer desks, and a cabinet. There was still some miscellaneous technical equipment hung up on the wall, but aside from that it didn't feel very "AV". But it was cozy. Someone had even gone above and beyond and had hung up some yellow Christmas lights to help with the ambiance.

She realized she was taking in the room so acutely because the rigid, surprised stares of the surrounding group was making her feel out of place. Not a feeling she wasn't sometimes use to, but the proximity made the feeling more jarring. Again, she thought of her normal lunch table.

No luck getting out of this now, though. Mike had shut the door and the hinges had made a terrible rusty creak that reminded her of the prison.

"Everyone," Mike repeated more clearly, "I said this is Buttercup."

"And Buttercup," He turned to her giving up on the group, "this is Joey, Jeff, Mary, Kim, and of course Elmer. We pulled an extra chair for you." His hands fluttered to the chair between Kim and Joey.

She remembered them, of course, since they had been going to school together since pre-k, so there was no need to re-introduce them. Still, she realized suddenly how long it had been since she talked to any of them. It was like they had just disappeared for a bit or something.

"Hey." She finally managed, as she sat down and arranged her stuff.

Mary, who's eyes were the size of dinner plates, waved with a squeak.

She focused in on the other girl, who was still pretty large; bigger than anyone else in the room for sure, with rosy red cheeks and braces. Her hair was in short pigtails that reminded Buttercup of a younger Bubbles and, Buttercup noted with a little amusement, she was wearing one of their shirts that Bubs had designed for a charity event—the one where their neon streaks formed a heart.

Buttercup waved back with a causal flick of her wrist, "Sup?" and then added with a slight smile, "I like your shirt."

Mary's rosy red cheeks turned a little redder, as she looked down to examine her own shirt.

"I didn't even realize," She spoke with a hurried lisp.

Buttercup shrugged and took a seat, "I'm not too into all the heart crud myself," She admitted, "but I know that shirt had sold like crazy. I think I have just the stripped version."

"I have that one too!" Mary said quickly, "I totally like that one better. Hearts can be overused," She finished grandly.

Before she could respond, Jeff, who took up the end of the table, so his wheelchair would have room, raised his eyebrows, "Rigghhtt, you think hearts are overrated. Okay, welp, we're glad you made it. For a moment we didn't think you were coming…again." He spoke directly to Mike.

She took the moment to look at Jeff. He still had the same long sandy blond hair, as he did when he was younger, which he had put up in sort of the same way Brick put his hair up. It didn't look bad; Jeff and Brick were apparently some of the only guys she knew who could rock the long hair look. She generally thought that people with super long hair looked greasy, but then again Blossom was her standard and no one could hardly live up to that.

Mike, who was more focused on his sandwich then the look his friend was giving him, replied softly, "Well, we're here now."

"Yeah, sorry. That was my bad." She interrupted, "We got half way here and I forgot the cookies I said I'd bring." She looked at Elmer, "They're regular chocolate chip, nothing fancy." She placed the container in front of him and he smiled.

"Bubbles makes really good cookies guys." He explained quickly before diving in.

Mary and Mike reached for their own share. Next to her Joey, who had finally looked up from his book, apologized, "Sorry, I'd totally have one, but I'm gluten free."

"Oh," She blinked. "Sorry, I didn't know."

"Hey, no worries, how would you?" He shrugged, turning back his book and apple, "I'm not much of a sweets guy anyway."

"Really?" She asked in disbelief.

He looked back at her, pushing his glasses up, and smiling, "Everyone always acts surprised."

"Well, when one of your main ingredients is sugar, it becomes pretty personal," She tried joking.

He snorted (thankfully), "I'll keep that in mind. No more sugar bashing."

"Just means more for us! Want a cookie Kim? Jeff?" Mike asked offering the container.

Jeff rolled his eyes, but nonetheless took one.

Kim, who was on the other side of her, looked up through her hair, and Buttercup couldn't tell if the black under her eyes were bags, makeup, or both. Her stare was fixed blankly on the cookies before her, "They're…sweet."

"Uh, thank—"

"How cool would it be," She muttered darkly, almost to herself, "if my teeth decayed? They all just fell out…"

Buttercup stared, mulling over an answer, "Uh, very?"

Before Kim could respond, Mike dived-in with a quick panic, "Hey Joey! What are you reading?"

Joey swallowed a bite of his apple, moving his eyes away from Kim and to the open pages of his book, "Nothing fun, well I think it is." He shrugged, "It's called Genetic Coding and Mutations; The Human Building Block. It was written by a few professors at the Town-U actually! It's really interesting, it dives right into the making of a human without the need for parents…well, that's simplifying it." He shrugged sheepishly, "Not very interesting stuff to talk about."

"No, it sounds cool." Mike encouraged.

"Fun light reading, Joey?" Jeff asked sardonically from the end of the table.

Buttercup smiled rolling her eyes. She couldn't escape this stuff for the life of her, "One of the author's is Professor Utonium right?"

Joey, who had taken a moment to glare at Jeff, turned back to her, "Yeah, how'd you know? Are you familiar with his work?"

Once again, her eyebrows shot up in surprise, but nonetheless she couldn't help smiling. Gesturing to herself she replied, "I am his work."

She watched the gears turn in his smart little head before a hand went to his forehead. He laughed in disbelief, "Professor Utonium made you!"

"Yeah," She laughed, "he's my dad."

"I can't believe I forgot. I mean of course! Wow!" He shook his head, "He's your dad. Sorry! When you think Powerpuff Girls, you don't really think about the lab you were created in."

"It's no big deal. Kinda refreshing." Everyone always seemed to forgot about the Professor.

"You're in the book." He said excitedly, flipping the pages, and showing her the diagrams she had grown up seeing.

"Specimen Bx-2?" Mike asked from across the table. He had to lean over to see the book pages. Joey held the book up higher so everyone could see.

Buttercup shrugged, "Yep, that's me. It's not a very creative name. Blossom at least wanted us to be called speci _woman_ , but the university decided the book could only garner so much moral backlash at a time."

"Pretty metal." Kim muttered nodding her approval.

"Really metal!" Joey agreed.

Jeff shrugged stabbing at his potato salad.

She turned back towards her food, "I'll introduce you sometime, he loves talking about his nerd work, uh no offense." She hoped no one saw her cringe at how awkward and desperate she sounded.

"If I can actually meet _the_ Professor Utonium, none taken!" He eagerly responded without missing a beat and she felt like she had passed a math test or something.

She could see her family now, jaws dropping, at the mere idea of her bringing a (potential) friend over. A _smart_ one no less. Eat it Blossom!

"Can I come too?" Mary asked, her question tumbling out on the tail end of Joey's response.

A two for one! Eat it Bubbles!

'Sure. I don't care."

The larger girl flushed and Buttercup wondered if she should prep an autograph or something.

Kim, who had was still studying the book, pointed at a paragraph and turned to her, "You can regenerate?"

Buttercup nodded, "It's a life saver."

"So, your teeth…can they?"

"I've lost so many teeth I don't bother to count anymore."

"Can your dad make me more teeth? Don't ask for context." She made a point to stare at both Mike and Jeff.

Buttercup thought for a moment and then shrugged, "Yeah, probably."

"I'm coming over with Joe and Mary."

Buttercup sniggered. This girl was definitely weird, but she liked it. The group surrounding her was anything, but fake and Buttercup was basking in the change. They were all so refreshing.

"Yeah, no. I'm asking for context," Jeff sighed, "why do you need Professor Utonium to make you teeth?"

"It doesn't have to do with that tooth decay comment, does it Kimi?" Mike pressed on.

Kim's bangs feel back in front of her face and she darkly looked from one boy to the other, but neither backed down. Mike's face was filled with genuine concern, Jeff with amusement, and the rest of them watched the stare down, leaning in closer with anticipation for what was next.

Finally, Kim leaned back in her chair, flipped her hair to the side, and with a causal shrug finally answered, "Fangs," as if it was that obvious.

"Kimi, you can do that without getting new teeth." Jeff sighed.

"Maybe there's some fake fangs at the mall!" Mary suggested.

"She could just file them." Jeff countered.

"I'm pretty sure you can get that done at the mall too." Joey chimed in, "I bet there are tools you can use as well."

"Wait—" Mike tried cutting in.

"Or just go to the tattoo parlor on 3rd." Buttercup added, "They do all kinds of stuff. Tell them I sent you and you'll get a discount. I saved the managers kid once."

"What kind of discount?" Jeff asked interested.

"Depends on what you ask for."

Kimi stood abruptly, "I have to go immediately," pushed her things into her bag, open containers of food and all, and booked it out of there.

"Wait! Kim! No! Think this through!" Mike jumped up as well and dashed after her.

"Wait is she going now? It's the middle of—"

"Ah. Ah." Jeff interrupted with a smile, "Never question Kimi."

For the first time the two shared a brief smile and Buttercup threw up her hands in mock surrender, "Okay. I won't."

The bell rang a few moments later and she soon found herself walking the hallways with Elmer. He had been so quiet she had almost forgotten he was there until she realized he had saddled up right next to her. They passed a few classrooms and rows of lockers in relative silence, as she digested her time with the new lunch group. She couldn't help the smile that spread on her face.

She was seriously glad she didn't chicken out.

She turned to Elmer and barely noticed that he was already looking at her, "It's cool I eat with you guys tomorrow?"

It was like Elmer couldn't nod his head any faster, "Y-yeah! Of course."

"Cool. I'm going to stop by my locker really quick and put some of this stuff away." She was about to say goodbye, but Elmer turned with her down the hall, and even though she knew the gym was the other way she didn't say anything. It felt nice having someone to walk with.

Conversation with Elmer she had realized were a little more difficult, then it was with Mike, but it didn't seem like either of them cared. You had to appreciate the naturally quiet people, they gave you time to breathe.

* * *

Buttercup burst through their front door, like she was on cloud nine. Not to be egotiscal, but she was pretty much the queen of making friends.

"I'm! Home!" She yelled and waited a few moments to see if she'd get a response, but she was only met with silence. She shrugged, kicking off her shoes and dumping her bookbag by the lab door. She'd go down in a moment.

First, she needed to raid the fridge.

She chugged on the apple juice container and was surveying the pantry, while she reflected on her day. The first part of it had been pretty unnoteworthy, besides being mad at her sisters, but the second part of the day had given her a huge sense of hope. Maybe the new friends were exactly what she needed to improve her mood and help her move on, just like the Professor had said.

She floated down to her room with a plethora of snacks in tow.

When she thought about it, Jeff had seemed a little tense and she wondered if they'd end up getting along. She wished she could ask someone without it being weird, but who? The only people she could think of were her sisters, but she was pretty sure they were still pissy. They had given her the cold shoulder at the end of the school day when they were all at their lockers.

It made her feel a little cruddy thinking about it. She was so sick of feeling cruddy about everything and keeping secrets. She loved her sisters. So much so, she practically died for them!

Between stuffing her face full of potato chips and cheese-ritzs, she decided that today had been a good day. She had made sure of it, so she wasn't going to let her sisters and that dumb fight ruin her evening. She'd talk things out with them, maybe even tell them about her…issues. Everything was looking on the up and up anyway and honestly, she hated when they fought.

The front door open and shut and Buttercup put down the snacks. She'd go up and confront her sisters right now. The silent treatment couldn't continue forever! They were a team!

Stomping up the stairs, she took a deep breath before calling out, "Hey! Listen, gir—"

 _ **BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!**_

Buttercup tripped up the last few stairs out of shock and landed painfully down on her hands.

"The hotline!" She cried pushing up off the stairs and shaking off her stinging palms.

"It's the hotline!" She cheered again rushing to the phone in a zip and had to blink back tears of surprise, "Girls! The hotline!"

She stared at the old phone (the last hotline left in the house) watching the light flash red. A while ago, Bubbles had decided to paint the whole thing the color red, so it didn't look like a child's toy any longer, but Buttercup could still make out the little plastic eyes. She didn't move to answer the phone though, as if it would jinx the call. She stood and stared intensely praying that this wasn't some sort of joke.

The Professor, came in a half a second later just as surprised. He has also stopped and stared in awe at the fact that someone was actually calling the hotline.

"The hotline…" Professor muttered, the first one to snap out of their daze, and reached for the phone, "Yes, hello Mayor?"

"What's he saying?" Buttercup asked eagerly, "What's he need? Where are Bubbles and Bloss?" She looked around almost anxiously.

"Shush dear—not you Mayor, please continue." He talked into the phone and mouthed to her that her sisters were out, shooing her back a bit, "The city?"

Another moment and Buttercup watched the Professor nod his head to whatever the Mayor was saying, "Of course. Yes. They'll be right there."

He put the phone back down on the receiver and turned to her, "There's a monster near Town Hall. Mayor said it's a class-D, possibly C. I'm going to call your sisters."

"They can just meet me there. I'll go on ahead, there may not be a lot of time." She did her best to make her voice sound like she had authority in the situation, but the look the Professor shot her made her pause, "What?"

"We'll wait for your sisters. I don't want you going out alone." And before she could protest and say how unfair that was he continued, " _Any_ of you."

He pulled out his phone, put it on speaker, and Blossom answered on the first ring.

"Hiya Professor!"

"Blossom dear, there's a situation. Tow—

"—Townsville's in trouble. A class- D, maybe C, near Town Hall. It was phoned in by the Mayor. Where are you two? I can meet you there!" She was all geared up to burst out the front door before Blossom would even have time to respond, but still the Professor held her back.

Internally she groaned, how annoying was this! She could be there already, protecting the town and when her sister got there, they'd implement Plan Sigma or maybe even Iota and bam-pow! The day is saved thanks to the Powerpuff Girls!

She could see it so clearly in her head her blood pumped with anticipation.

"Why'd the hotline ring?" Bubbles asked in the background, but to Buttercup it sounded more like a whine. She could hear the crowd that surrounded them and again wondered where they could be.

"Class-D monster. Nothing big." Blossom explained quickly and efficiently.

"Monster!" Bubbles whined, "Why now?"

From the other side of the line came a low whistle that was definitely not from one of her sisters. There was also a something like a giggle and other hushed whispers.

"What's class-D mean?" Someone asked.

"Nothing big, obviously." Someone answered.

Buttercup clenched her jaw. There were clearly other people around listening in on a conversation that should have been confidential. Maybe the facts of this particular case weren't particularly unique or on a-need-to-know bases, like some of their other missions, but for whatever reason it irked her to no end.

"Where are you two anyway? Who's listening in?" She basically hissed.

And maybe Blossom and Bubbles got the hint because it was significantly quieter on the other end when they replied, "We're out with some friends at the new skating rink—"

"—We didn't think you'd want to come."

They didn't know how correct they were.

"That's not important right now," said Blossom, "we need to get to the city."

"We can't just leave!" Bubbles scoffed and Buttercup's eye twitched.

Buttercup did her best to shake off her annoyance, "You're at a…skating rink? And you can't just leave?"

From the other end of the line she could hear her sisters bumbling around for a good enough answer. She couldn't believe it! They finally get a call, they can finally do their job again, and they can't just…leave the dumb skating rink?

"Fine, then I'll just go by myself. No big deal." Buttercup shrugged, hoping they could hear the scowl in her voice, "I'm already in uniform and you guys can stay out, whatever."

She looked over at the Professor who shuffled in place and gave her a disapproving 'hmm'.

"What." She demanded.

"I don't think I'm comfortable with that idea. I'd prefer you all went or you didn't at all."

"I'd have to agree with the Professor, BC. It's been awhile since our last call and even longer since any of us went on a solo mission. We're rusty. It's best to stay together as a team, in case one of us gets hurt." Blossom agreed.

And while it was reasonable request, Buttercup couldn't help feel a bit guilty and defensive, "I'm not rusty. _I've_ kept training. Plus, I've handled worse on my own. It's not a big deal." She finished crossing her arms.

"We know you can handle it Butters! It's just…" Bubbles trailed off quietly.

"It's just what? I'll get hurt again or something?" She huffed, "This is different than that. It's a Class-D."

"Going alone may just not be the safest option right now Buttercup. It, well, hasn't been that long and if something does happen it could affect the team." Blossom explained and Buttercup couldn't help but think the word 'again' felt very heavily implied.

"You think I can't handle it." It was a statement not a question.

"That's not what I meant Buttercup. Not at all." Blossom responded quickly sounding offended, like she had the right to or something.

Buttercup scoffed crossing her arms over her chest, not that her sisters could see it, but her voice was dipped in ice, "No that's _exactly_ what you meant." Then she looked pointedly at the Professor, "Apparently, you all do."

"Buttercup." Her father warned.

"You all think I'm weak or something!" She continued, "But I'm not! I lived!"

The four of them were silent for a few beats after that and she turned her hard stare to the ground. The weight of the Professor's gaze was a little too much to bare and she didn't want to think about the silence on the other end of the phone.

It was Bubbles who finally spoke next. Softly she said, "We never thought that Butters. You're the strongest person we know."

She didn't want to think that Bubbles was just saying that.

"Well," She was also quiet, "let me go then."

Again, she was met with silence, but she wasn't going to dare look up at her father. She was almost going to admit defeat and claim that she was sorry, when finally Blossom spoke.

"Fine. I…I guess I could be okay with it, but only if you call should something go wrong! We'll be there in a flash."

"We'll be there faster than a flash!" Bubbles countered, "We'll be there so fast we'll warp time!"

Buttercup almost smiled at this, but restrained herself because the final authority had yet to say anything.

"I just don't think I'm comfortable with that girls." The Professor finally said with a sigh.

Buttercup's heart sunk. If she didn't act fast, there was no way she'd be able to fight any monster anytime soon. Begging was more successful when Bubbles tried it, but she could lay it on him if she tried her best.

"Please dad." She pleaded, looking up through her eyelashes, "I think this could be what I needed. Especially, to show Townsville that I'm fine."

The Professor faltered and took his time weighing the options.

"Please dad." She tried again with her best puppy dog eyes, "Please. I promise I'll be careful."

"Well…" He sighed reluctantly, "Well, okay. Just make sure you don't get hurt."

With that she was off towards the city before they could have the chance to change their minds. Finally, things were turning around back to normal.

* * *

" _Blossy, I think she needs this."_ Bubbles had whispered so low that neither the Professor or Buttercup had heard them from the other end of the phone.

Blossom played those words again and again in her head like a mantra. It was only slightly calming. Maybe Buttercup did need this, but it wasn't like she'd tell them the real reasons why. Buttercup hated pity, so Blossom guessed her and Bubbles would play dumb a little longer to Buttercup's recent changes in behavior.

Even if that churned Blossom's stomach with guilt. She was the leader after all. She should do better, should have _done_ better, to protect her team.

She was well aware she was devouring her bottom lip. Much like Bubbles and hair twirling, it was a horrible habit she had picked up over the years when she got incredibly anxious about something. And those "somethings" she usually got worked up about were generally situations beyond her control, so she never could seem to fix them.

So, she continued to chew on her bottom lip and bite the inside of her mouth while her eyes anxiously switched between her phone screen and the little tv monitor at the '90s roller rink the group had decided to check out. Blossom personally thought it was cute and the milkshakes were good, but she could tell that some of the guys in the group were growing a little bored of the "girly" atmosphere—that is if atmosphere could reasonably be gendered, which she'd argued could not, but now wasn't the time for an internal gender studies debate.

Instead, to distract herself, she thought about how happy Bubbles had been to be there. Up until the hotline rang, she and a few other girls hadn't gotten out of the rink, not even for the food, and had been content rolling along.

And Blossom had been content watching them. It was relaxing to finally see her sister enjoy their new-found free time. Bubbles wasn't half bad a skating either, but she had always been rather graceful, as she twirled and danced through life. In fact, Bubbles had been mid twirl when the alarm had rung and popped their happy little bubble.

Now the cute little neon lights no longer flashed in an inviting fashion. The harsh reds and blues only weighed down on Blossom.

Boomer cleared his throat, "Bloss, you should have seen this place before the remodel."

"I liked it better before." Brick chimed in looking up from his phone.

This was their third attempt at idle conversation. She knew what they were doing and it was nice of them to try and distract her, but at the moment she couldn't muster up anything more than a few 'mhm's' or 'oh's'.

"You've been here before?" Blossom asked trying to pull her attention away from the TV. A helicopter had finally gotten a decent angel of the monster Buttercup would be fighting. Alone. One on one. By herself. Without her and Bubbles.

She had half a mind to jump up and meet her there and if it hadn't been for Bubbles watching her every move she would have.

"Been here before?" Boomer playfully scoffed, "This place use to be perfect; dark corners, cheap food—

"—BJ Jessica that hung out by the bathrooms—" Brick added, pointing a thumb causally towards the well-lit hallway that lead to the restrooms.

"—and at one point there was illegal fighting in the back-alley way." Butch concluded sliding into the booth she shared with his brothers and Robin. He shrugged reaching for the nachos, "Must be under new management."

"You must be so disappointed." She replied dryly shaking her head.

"Eh." Brick also shrugged, "Gotta say, Jessica wasn't that great."

"Jessica was actually a Jake."

Brick sat there for a moment in thought, "Oh yeah…call the presses, you're actually right for once Butch."

Butch scowled, kicking his brother under the table, "Prick."

Brick just smiled that lopsided grin the three brothers all seemed to share.

"Food's still good!" Boomer beamed with a mouth full of burger.

"We wouldn't know fat-ass," Brick's smile quickly changed so it no longer met his eyes, "you've eaten it all!"

"Hey! I'm not fat!" Boomer argued and Butch snorted.

Blossom turned away from the impending fight and shared a look with Robin. She honestly couldn't deal with quelling whatever fire had been lit in Brick right now, she had another more pressing issue to mull over.

"She'll be fine Bloss. She always kicks ass." Robin smiled resting a hand over her own.

Blossom didn't have much of a reply.

"Of course, she'll be fine! She promised over the phone, didn't she?" Bubbles said a little too loudly, her smile just a little too bright, as she bounced over to the table.

Her fingers dropped from her hair, leaving behind perfect golden curls, and she hopped up on the booth. She kicked up one of her feet as she clicked off the tv monitor, but when she turned to face them again her eyes didn't match her actions.

Blossom met Bubbles hard stare, as the blonde spoke through her smile, "So let's not talk about it anymore, 'kay? We're here to have fun!"

The rest of the group nodded and Blossom wondered if they could see past her façade like she could.

Bubbles clapped jumping down to the ground, "Then let's have fun sillies! Come on Robbie!" She snatched the other girl's hand tightly judging from Robin's wince.

"Bubs! My hand!"

* * *

Buttercup flew as fast as she could to the center of the City and followed the rampage and destruction all the way to her target. The sun was in the early stages of setting, but the sky had yet to change colors. While the sky remained rather uninteresting as she sped along, the City was another story. The roads were broken and scattered, the people were in distress, and the buildings looked as if they had been…bitten?

She paused at a now rather deformed building to take in the size of the…yep, definitely bite marks. The smile on her face grew tenfold. Now this was what she was talking about!

Nothing like a good monster fight to really cheer her up. This really was rounding out to be a good day! And her sisters wanted to miss _this_? Crazy!

When she finally found the monster, which hadn't proved to be too difficult, the first thing she considered was the huge horn that protruded from its snout. The horn itself dwarfed a few of the complexes that occupied the area and the monster itself was about a head taller than Townsville's largest skyscraper. Its scaly, bumpy skin was tinged a moss color. If it weren't for the set of comically small wings, she would have figured that the dragon-esque like creature was just a regular lizard monster. She wondered if it breathed fire.

Also, the thing was fat with a capital "F". Big Boy certainly liked to eat, in fact, as far as she could tell he was still currently eating, unless half the building sticking out of his mouth was just for show.

"Hey Big Boy!" She yelled and it turned its ugly head in her direction, "Consider yourself lucky, 'cause I'm in a pretty good mood today, so I'm going to give your ugly mug a chance to spit out the high rise and get out before I change my mind!"

The monster tilted its head at her words, as if it were truly considering what she had said and for a moment she was afraid it would. A split second later though proved her wrong, as she had to quickly dodge away from the partially chewed building that had been spit her way.

The monster let out a loud battle cry and Buttercup watched with wide eyes as his dinner went sailing through the City and stuck vertically into the ground like a spear next to the fountain in Town Hall Square. She shook off her surprise and pushed away unnecessary memories as she rolled her shoulders, limbering up.

Cracking her neck, she smirked back at the creature, "I like your style ugly, but don't say I didn't give you a chance."

With a cry of her own she charged towards its towering form, dodging the claws that swiped her way. Sharply, she turned upwards staying close to the torso of the monster, taking the opportunity to fire off her heat vision. It didn't do much, but it certainly wasn't comfortable for the monster, as its movements became erratic. She could tell she was pissing it off, which made her feel quite smug.

As she neared his chin, she landed the first hit and with satisfaction watched as the monster's head cracked backwards. The hit had felt good after not having a real tangible monster to hit for so long, it almost felt like she was cheating on the simulation room!

Of course, basking in that small glory had left her defenses open and the monster recovered quicker then she had been expecting. His head snapped back to a forward position and flames licked at his mouth.

Realizing what was about to happen, she grimaced, "So, you can breathe fire, huh?" and a moment later she was engulfed in flames. Not like this hadn't happened to her before, but still she'd never be use to it. She let out a startled cry and fell towards the ground. Coming to her senses she righted herself in the sky and shook the soot from her hair.

She growled, "Okay ugly, you're not the only one with tricks up their sel—"

She wasn't allowed to finish her sentence as the giant tail she hadn't accounted for wacked her into the nearest building. She felt the breath leave her body as she finally tumbled to the ground.

'Okay,' She thought, groaning waiting for her vision to be less spotty, 'so you've made a few rookie mistakes. Enough fooling around.'

Something about that hit though, wasn't sitting right with her. Maybe she had ended up hitting her head a little too hard, but her foggy vision wasn't tainted with blackness like normal, but a hazy red that made her heart beat quicken.

She shook her head and blinked. "Come on, BC. Focus," she grumbled to herself.

Finally, she stood and looked back at the monster who had turned its attention away, stomping towards another building, probably hoping to continue its dinner.

"Oh?" She said loudly, "You think we're done?"

She rose back into the air and channeled all the anger she had recently felt down into her hands. She felt them heat up and as they began to radiate a faint bright green color she shot off at full speed towards the monster.

"Well think again!" She cried continuing her one-sided battle bicker, as the beast turned towards the commotion she had made. She fired off the energy beams with a great amount of force straight at his chest plate. It burnt a hole through the thick skin and as the wound festered Big Boy let out a cry and stumbled back.

This time she wouldn't celebrate too early. It had a weak spot now, Buttercup-made, and she wasn't going to waste it on the off chance this beast could regenerate. She had yet to slow down and reached the new hole a few seconds later. Each punch she landed was accompanied by her own yells and she watched the wound become bigger.

The monster's own yells matched hers in ferocity, but its were a bit more desperate. It swiped at her as it yelled, but ultimately missed. In its frenzy it let loose its flames, trying to integrate the air around them, but still Buttercup continued. In a final swipe of desperation, it did finally manage to nick her and its claws scraped at her skin. But it wasn't the pain that drove her away, it was the cry of pain from the monster itself. It had made her vision tunnel and her head filled with the sound of what felt like a million other tortured voices.

She hissed and shot away. In the moment Big Boy had realized it had gained, he jumped into the air. Buttercup's surprise came back to her quickly, as she watched those little wings lift up the impossibly large body they had to support. The thing could actually fly with those! Gravity be damned! She'd laugh later though, because another weak point had just presented itself to her and she wasn't going to lose it.

She had to prove she could do this. She tried her best to clear her mind, breathed in and out, and ignored the trembling in her hands. Now wasn't the time to think of that. She had a city to save!

She blasted forward catching up to the monster in no time whatsoever and rounded to the creatures back. With the heat from her eyes she shot at the thin, papery wings burning holes straights through. The monster again cried out, as it lost altitude, flapping at the air with its big, flabby arms.

For a moment she felt bad, watching the creature flounder the way it did, but then she caught a look at her beloved city. The city in the midst of reconstruction and now here it was once again damaged. The buildings eaten, the people hurt, and lives destroyed. A rush of guilt filled her because hadn't she hoped for this? Hadn't she prayed for a monster fight?

Couldn't she just let the city live in peace, how selfish could she be?

She blinked and when she opened her eyes again a different scene was laid out in front of her. The sky had turned red and most of this district had been decimated. Fire had rained down and she watched the people, who looked like ants from this height, run in vain. She knew for a fact that all the people on this block would die. The ground would cave in and they would fall into blackness, never to be seen again. She knew this scene too well, she had seen it countless times before.

When she blinked again, she only saw the damage that had been caused by the monster's mouth. It may have been her selfish prayer to the cosmos, but as she watched the monster fall towards the ground, towards the spot where the people had fallen into nothingness, she felt nothing but rage towards the creature.

All she saw was HIM.

So, with the biggest cry she could muster she launched herself at the sack of scales and before the monster could even reach the ground with a huge, horribly, deadly thud she had shot clear through him using her energy beams to cook him inside out.

She landed heavily on the ground and slowly stood up as chunks of monster rained around her. She turned to look up at the sky noting that it was no longer empty and boring. The sun had bathed it in burnt orange. It was beautiful and reminded her of a bonfire, but the memory of it would forever be marked with innards and blood that soaked her uniform.

The people of Townsville rushed from their hiding places and surrounded her with celebration, but she continued to look up at the sky numbly.

"—uttercup? Buttercup!" she was snapped out of reverie by Ms. Bellum, who was looking at her with what Buttercup assumed was concern. The lady really needed to tame that hair.

"Huh?" She answered, her voice sounding hoarser then she thought it should. Behind Ms. Bellum she noticed the Mayor was talking to a news crew. He loved attention. Buttercup wasn't complaining though, she hated dealing with the press.

"I said your nose, its bleeding. Are you okay? Where are the other girls? Buttercup?" Ms. Bellum pressed firmly, but urgently on. Buttercup didn't answer though.

Instead, she brought a hand to her nose and swiped at the sticky wetness that was gushing from that area. She felt the blood run down her fingers and pulled her hand away to watch. She could only stare numbly at the quick metallic smelling liquid and watched it rush down to her wrists.

Behind her people were cheering, but to her they sounded like screams.

* * *

When she finally ripped her eyes away from her hand she was met with the white porcelain of the bathroom tub. She blinked slowly taking in deep breaths. Her face felt raw. Thinking of her face made her remember that she needed to wash the blood off her face. She had had blood on her face and she needed to wash it off.

' _Face wash,_ ' A voice inside her head whispered. _'You need face wash.'_

Not normal soap. According to Bubbles that wasn't good for your skin. Blood wasn't either. She needed to wash that off.

The little container wasn't on the tub's shelf, which was weird. She remembered noticing she was running low, like maybe she had a third or so left, but she didn't think she threw it away.

With a growl she reached for her body wash and squeezed a hardy portion into her hand. Her skin didn't matter, she needed to get the blood off. The thought of blood made her chest tighten and she scrubbed until it stung.

She reached for more soap, but when she squeezed the bottle nothing else came out. She must have used more then she had intended or maybe the bottle had just been low. She tossed it over the side of the tub, so she'd remember to throw it away later after she got out and it clunked against something already on the floor.

Peering over the edge, she saw that the body wash had most likely bounced off of an empty bottle of shampoo, and laid next to her now found, but empty, container of face wash.

Her face burned, the water was cold and dirty, and she was crying.

* * *

She couldn't clearly remember the sequence of events that had led her here to the corner of the simulation training room, but she was here with her back safely to the wall.

She remembered getting out of the tub stained with dirt and looking at the mirror. She remembered seeing the nightmares that were actually horrible memories she could not place, which had been burnt into her mind, because she saw them even now. She remembered feeling angry. Then, she was here in the brightest room in their whole house and she was picking glass out of her knuckles before her hands could heal with the little particles still in them.

The blood was making her feel a little weird, but not as weird as before. Maybe 'cause her hands had always been rough looking. She had a bad habit at picking at the various scars, scabs, and skin on her hands, so nothing ever healed correctly. She was surprised skin still grew around her fingernails.

A door upstairs banned open. It was the Professor. She drew into herself more and continued inspecting her hands for glass. They were super dry and cracking, and it was mesmerizing watching her Chemical X seep out of her pores to heal them. She thought it was weird that it never came out black, unless it was mixed with blood. The rest of the time it just looked like sweat, thicker though.

She rubbed the little drops into her skin and watched as broken skin was reconnected. The Professor was calling for her.

"Buttercup? Buttercup where are you? Ms. Bellum called! Are you alright! Buttercup?" He yelled.

She stayed quiet. He wouldn't like what he would eventually find. At least, she had managed to throw on some oversized t-shirt and gym shorts after her shower, but she couldn't remember when that had happened.

She couldn't remember a lot of things anymore. Her memory was full of a lot of blank black spots, that sometimes no one wanted to fill her in on. She traced the scar that circled the entire base of her left pointer finger. She was smart though, maybe not school smart all the time, but smart enough to piece a few things together.

The finger that was attached to the scar was a few months new. She had asked about it once, but the Professor and her sisters brushed her off. She figured it must have been broken off and had grown back. The skin was too smooth and unblemished to be a part of her hand. She thought it was interesting that they could grow back whole fingers. Not surprising though, she was on her like third set of adult teeth, her body grew back all the time.

She would've liked knowing how it grew back in. Did it start out like a little baby finger and grow to regular size? Did it just regenerate? She wiggled the finger, as she brought it closer to her face, like the finger would talk itself and answer her questions if she listened closely enough.

And that's how the Professor found her. Sitting in the corner of the simulation room, with all the lights on, pieces of glass surrounding her, as she examined her bruised, bloody, scarred hands and the finger that had only been apart of her for the past few months.

"Oh. Oh Buttercup."

She shrunk back into her corner at the sound of his voice and drop her hands into fist at her side.

"Oh sweetheart. What happened?" He took a few steps towards her and she panicked jumping up.

"Nothing! I won. It's fine!" Her voice felt coarse, "I'm just resting. It's fine."

"No, it's not. I knew I shouldn't have let you go on your own. I'm calling your sisters, this needs to be discussed."

"No!" She cried taking a few uncoordinated steps towards him "No. No. No. No."

"Buttercup." The Professor spoke carefully, but she wouldn't let him finish.

"No! They can't know! You can't tell them! Please!" She begged. She felt her voice crack and knew she probably looked as hysterical as she felt, "Not them, they can't know!"

Her hands tangled in her hair and she realized she was tugging on the damp strands, and she realized she was being a complete maniac, and crazy, and that's something she knew she was, but they couldn't know that! Because if they knew, then they'd _know_. She was the tough one. She was the strong one.

 _Look what you've done._

She heard herself make a sound, sort of like a wail, like the sound a mother makes when she finds out her child has died, which was a sound Buttercup was all too familiar with. And it was like her legs can no longer support her, so she crouched down wrapping her arms around them and buried her face, as she continued to plead with her father, "Just not them, okay? Don't let them know."

A moment later his arms wrapped around her like a shield and she couldn't tell whether he was rocking her or if she had been doing it the whole time.

* * *

A/N: This was supposed to be a happy chapter, but then I thought what if it wasn't? I don't know why I bother writing out outlines when I know I'll never follow them! Anyway, I rewrote this chapter a million times and I still don't know if I got the intended emotions across, so I apologize for the time delay. Also, I was in the hospital for a bit there! I have a few health complications that I'm working out, so updates will probably be slow Chronic illness is no fun!

P.S. Am I supposed to reply to the reviews? Like what's the normal protocol?

Q/A:

 **Ti** \- First off, thank you for being so kind and wonderful and motivating! Your reviews always make me smile! Second, concerning **end-game** stuff, I can tell you that this story will have Mike/Robin (as I've already spoiled); and the Professor gets a gal, but it's not Ms. Keane. What happens with everyone else is still up in the air~ But since the story isn't pairing driven, at the end of the day whatever I do decide won't hurt the plot. Being totally honest though I do love the greens, so hint-hint!


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